#because the joy is always HOW they're going to pull one over
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i simply must ask- what makes an OP character (protag or otherwise) *work* for you, vs what doesnt?
Hi! This is a very astute and good question.
It's tension.
When a character is in a fight scene, the basic question and source of the tension is "Will they win?". Logically, they're probably going to win, they're the hero - but there should be a push and pull within the fight, where the audience pinballs between "he's going to win!/oh no, he might lose!".
You can't do that with an OP character. There's never any question. He's going to win. So the tension has to come from someplace else. You have to ask a different question.
The question can vary. "Will he win under his self-imposed constraints?" (e.g., your OP character is a pacifist and wants to win without shooting his gun). "Will he win without going Sicko Mode, which is bad and distresses all of us?" (e.g., your OP character is only OP when he unleashes the Demon Self, which is bad for him). "Will he win without revealing his identity or secret? (e.g., your OP character has to win a fight without using his OP powers, because otherwise he'll face social repercussions).
Alternatively/in addition, you change the type of conflict. If your character is guaranteed to succeed at every physical fight, then the primary/'real' conflict should be on an emotional, intellectual, or psychological level. The story can no longer be about the physical fights. They have to be won through intellect or cleverness. The path towards victory has to be through intelligence, kindness, self-actualization, etc.
But absolutely most importantly: watching the OP character be OP should be fun. It should make us pump our fists in the air and go 'fuck yeah!'. It should be thrilling, exciting, and a spectacle. We know the detective is going to catch the bad guy - we're watching for the how. We know the clever protag is going to pull one over on the bad guy through sleight of hand and trickery, we're watching for the reveal of what exactly they did. Don't neglect the joys of watching Mr. OP be delightfully OP. But that is the payoff, and we need sufficient buildup to get there. Watching Mr. OP go sicko mode is the joy, but it's not the path. It's no longer about the if they're going to win, it's about the how. And that should be fun to watch.
My friend @lazuliquetzal has good commentary on this, as usual: that when we say "a character needs to have flaws to be interesting", what we really mean is "a story should not bend itself to accommodate a character". A character without flaws is fine, actually. But the story shouldn't backflip to give them everything they want. This is all really simple. For some reason people act as if this is extremely hard.
TL;DR: Watch Mob Psycho 100 and then sit and figure out why Mob Psycho 100 is one of the best anime of all time. Between One Punch Man and Mob Psycho 100, ONE understands how to do this.
#my asks#im going to reblog this with some examples actually.#trying to keep my posts fucking shorter jklasdf#I genuinely really like reading OP protag stuff because it shifts the lens#I really like silver tongued con artist guile heroes#because the joy is always HOW they're going to pull one over#some genres are literally nothing but OP protags and they still dont even understand like#what makes the genre fun.#if youre going to write a genre you have to know what makes it fun.#like. what. seriously
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Hi! May I please request headcanons for how the Toji, Choso, Gojo, and Nanami would react to his gn crush kissing him because they're so in love with him? Thank you!
Headcanons of Toji, Choso, Gojo, and Nanami's reactions after their s/o kisses them passionately out of nowhere
Toji, Choso, Gojo, and Nanami (separately) x reader
fluff with some spice!
a/n: I changed the prompt a bit in which the reader is already in an established relationship with the characters rather than being their crush. I misread your ask the first time I read it and only understood what you meant when I had finally finished writing. So sorry anon, I hope this is okay anyway! 😭
TOJI
He'd chuckle, "Well, aren't you such a sweetheart?", before grabbing your chin and kissing you back, full-force.
He'd find it so endearing that you loved him greatly. Surely, he'd show you how much he felt for you as well.
You'll see it in the way his eyes glint dangerously at you, like a predator ready to capture his prey, as he kisses you relentlessly.
You'll hear it in the way he lowly hums with delight into your lips with each kiss.
You'll taste it in the way he pushes his tongue into your mouth, exploring every part of it before dancing with yours.
You'll feel it in the way his other arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer to firmly press his body up against yours. You'll feel something in particular begin to press up against you too.
Through all this, Toji would hope that you at least understand one important thing - You can't kiss him without expecting it to get steamy ;)
CHOSO
He's as over the moon for you as you are for him. He'll kiss you back with the same intensity, if not more.
Choso will never hold back in terms of expressing his love for you. So when you openly and freely express your love for him, it brings his heart so much joy that he could cry. (and no doubt he would)
He'd cup your cheeks and smother your face with kisses, each kiss holding tons of affection. (His adoration for you would grow tenfold if you would do the same)
In general, with Choso, once you show him even an ounce of affection, he'll never hesitate to give it back. If you two continue to reciprocate each other's affections, then it'll be a long night of giving each other love and much more~
GOJO
I could imagine he'd grin, "Oh, you're too cute, Y/N. C'mere", and pounce on you with a big kiss.
Sure, he might be used to being fawned over and being the object of others' affection, but he doesn't take any affection from you for granted. You're special to him, after all. He'll love any gesture of affection from you the most and will always show his appreciation for it in fun-loving ways.
So I think he'd be the type to continue kissing you playfully: leaving light kisses on your lips, down your neck, around your collarbone, and maybe even further down, all while keeping his hands on your hips to ensure you're grounded underneath him. His firm grip on your hips was his way of telling you that he isn't letting you go any time soon.
Anyway, you'll end up finding quite a lot of love-bites all over your body, also in the most intimate places, once he's done with you.
NANAMI
He'd probably get caught off guard from the sudden gesture of affection.
Yet, in that moment, he'd feel at peace. Looking at your smiling face full of happiness and seeing your beautiful eyes shine with love and adoration staring back into his own couldn't bring him more joy.
Knowing that there's someone who loves him this much warms his heart and soothes his mind. Especially after a long day from work, he's incredibly grateful that you're the one he can come home to.
He'll wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in closely while keeping his gaze upon you, his eyes so gentle as he admires your visage.
"I love you", he'll whisper with a soft smile before going in for a kiss.
As he kisses you back, you'll feel the passion he has for you in his lips, claiming them over and over again as he embraces you tighter.
Your hearts would be so close to one another's, and each heartbeat would be his vow to protect you, the most precious thing on earth to him, with all his might.
© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS
#jjk fluff#jjk imagines#jjk x reader#jjk headcanons#gojo x reader#toji x reader#nanami x reader#choso x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#choso#nanami kento#toji fushiguro
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𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑
summary: your beloved son is a tiny, warmer version of your husband, itoshi rin, clingy and talkative without a care in the world. rin thinks you gave birth to a devil, one that won't let him spend time with you alone.
tags: 1.2k wc | f!reader | established relationship (they're married) | they have a kid in this | aged up characters | pro-athlete rin | kissing (nothing too suggestive), uncle sae makes an appearance
notes: happy birthday to rin itoshi q(≧▽≦q) also shout out to @okkalo because apparently great minds think alike
"black or red?" you mumble, eyes raking down your own reflection in the mirror. "what would he like better?"
at 5 pm on the third friday of every month, you always run into the same problem: date night. itoshi rin, your wonderful and adoring husband of five years, has kept the tradition of taking you out for a romantic dinner and drive throughout the city.
it started on your first anniversary when he surprised you by planning a date at a five-star restaurant that's always fully booked. back then, you were both still fresh out of college with no money to your names and you always wondered how he paid for the cheque.
fast forward years later, with your job as a top marine biologist and his as a renowned soccer player, your college romance seems so far away and yet, it's only bloomed into something far beautiful.
"dad says he likes both!"
you turn around at the words, a grin spreading across your face as you watch your bundle of joy run into the room. his legs are wobbly, and his hair is a dark mess on top of his head but the sight of him barreling straight towards you never fails to warm your heart.
"hello, my prince" you mumble, letting him bury his head into your neck. his hair tickles your skin, and you chuckle when he leaves a kiss on your collarbone. "did you have fun with your dad?"
"yeah! he bought ice cream then we went to the park to play soccer!"
he pulls away from you, bright teal eyes roaming over your face, staring as if he hasn't seen you for years when, in reality, it's only been a few hours. your beloved son is a tiny, warmer version of your husband, clingy and talkative without a care in the world.
"and then we-"
"alright, squirt. time for you to leave."
speak of the devil and he shall appear.
your head snaps towards the bedroom door, your grin melting into a soft smile as your husband steps into the room. rin wears a white fitted undershirt, obviously having changed whilst you were busy with your son.
rin moves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, one your son playfully blanches at, before trying to tug the small carbon copy of himself to where his brother stands at the door.
keyword: trying.
"but i haven't finished talking to mom!" your son whines, tugging his hand out of rin's. he trudges back to you, happily wrapping his arms around your leg, poking his tongue out at your husband. "go away!"
rin grunts, walking over towards you with a growing scowl on his face. "your mom and i have a date. sae's waiting to take you outside."
"well, uncle sae can wait!" the miniature devil in disguise tightens his grip on your leg, shooting a glare at rin before showing you his best puppy eyes. "i wanna be with mom."
"uncle sae can wait, i can't."
sometimes you wonder why the two halves of your heart can never get along.
they bicker, much like how rin used to with sae. whether it's in the morning, afternoon, or night, they'd find a reason to keep on getting on each other's nerves.
you'd be lying if you said it didn't amuse you, especially when you know that their hardheadedness stem from their love of you.
"well you should learn how to be more patient, papa!"
"she's my wife, you little squirt."
you laugh when rin finally reaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist, almost too territorial as he grabs his son's head, moving him away from you like pulling a toy from a claw machine.
"well, she's my mama too!" his small carbon copy huffs, slapping rin's hand away, all the while shooting him a glare. "you're so annoying!"
"okay, okay, that's enough," you sigh out, pressing a kiss to rin's cheek before pushing him away gently, crouching until you're eye level with your son.
you can see rin's disgruntled face in the corner of your eye. "your dad and i have a date tonight, sweetie. will you let us go, hm? i'll cook your favorite meal when you get back from uncle sae's. how about that?"
you watch him hesitate, twitching in his spot, occasionally throwing glances at his dad before he finally says, "i want that and kisses! cuddles too!"
you wonder where he learned to be such a good negotiator.
"okay," you mumble, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead before rin takes his hand, practically dragging your son to the front door where his brother stands, waiting with an amused smile. "be a good boy, okay?"
"wait, one more thing!" your little boy lurches out of rin's grip and you have to silence your laugh with a hand on your mouth, eyes crinkling in amusement at the fiery glare rin shoots him.
your son moves in, placing a kiss on your cheek before whispering cheekily, "you should make dad sleep on the couch tonight."
rin calls his name, muttering what you're sure to be curses under his breath, and you watch as your son moves towards him. only to completely disregard the hand rin has outstretched in favor of sae's.
sae nods his head towards you, one you copy before waving when he takes your son into his car for a weekend away.
"finally alone," your husband mutters, his tone deep and gruff. you can see the tension melt away from his shoulders when you wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging to his frame. "i can't believe you gave birth to a little devil."
rin has always been touchy. it's a fact he's proven time and time again, ranging from your first date until this very moment of when he glides his hand through your hair, playfully tugging at your strands.
"you look beautiful," he mumbles, moving to nuzzle his face into your neck. he trails kisses down the column of your neck, and you sigh, having already experienced the sensation, albeit, a more innocent version, only minutes ago. "ready to leave?"
"hm? who are you and what have you done to my husband?" you chuckle, giggling when he retaliates to your words by nipping on your skin. you move your hand, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. "i'm kidding. you know i love it when you're all clingy and kissy."
he places one final kiss on your neck before pulling away, his eyes taking you in. "stunning," the words leave his lips as a breathy whisper, and you smile at the hazed look in his eyes.
he looks breathtakingly handsome with his hair gelled back and his undershirt wrapped tightly around his frame. you help him pull on his tuxedo, neatly pressed by your own hands only a few hours earlier, as he recounts his day out with your son.
and finally, you watch, amused when he takes off your ring and his, setting them both on your vanity drawer.
"shall we?" the words are muffled against your ring finger, the limb feeling oddly bare. rin kisses every single one of your knuckles before pressing one final kiss to your palm, his lips warm and soft.
"we shall."
he intertwines your fingers, tugging you out of your home and into his car, ready to take sweep you off your feet, just like he once did all those years ago when he made you his.
#blue lock x reader#blue lock imagines#blue lock fluff#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin imagines#rin x reader#rin imagines#itoshi rin fluff#itoshi rin x y/n#itoshi rin x you#bllk x female reader#bllk x y/n#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x female reader#blue lock x you#rin fluff
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Jude and Y/N going to a wedding - maybe Jude is her plus one and they're all over them because he's famous and he's just so in love with Y/N that he doesn't notice 🤭❣️
Numero uno
Inspo: Set in the World Class series, y/n's older brother Rowan decides to finally tie the knot with his girlfriend Rosemary. In turn, Y/N invites Jude as her plus one. Little did she know that inviting her boyfriend who almost won the euro's would cause such a stir.
You hated weddings. You hated the formality, the expectations, the grand declarations of love. How could anyone promise to love someone forever when life was so unpredictable, so fragile? People fell out of love, people changed, and worst of all, people died. You had seen it firsthand and the pain it caused.
The memory of Noah, your eldest brother, loomed large in your mind. He had been the glue that held their family together, his laughter and warmth filling every room he entered. But in 2020, a tragic accident had taken him from them, leaving a gaping hole that time could never fully heal. Rowan had been especially close to Noah, and you knew that today, more than ever, he would be feeling that absence acutely.
Yet, this wedding was different. Your older brother Rowan, who had been with his girlfriend Rosemary for as long as you could remember, had finally proposed. Rowan and Rosemary’s relationship had weathered many storms, and their love had only grown stronger. It was a day of joy and celebration, something you couldn’t deny them, despite your own reservations.
You stood in front of the mirror in your hotel room, your hands trembling slightly as you tried to zip up your dress. The gown was a stunning mix of red and black satin, elegant and bold, but the zipper seemed to have a mind of its own. You struggled with it for a moment, your thoughts drifting back to all the times Noah had teased you about your dramatic views on love and marriage. He would have laughed at you today, seeing you all dressed up and ready to support Rowan.
A soft knock on the door pulled you from her reverie. “Y/N, are you okay in there?” Jude’s voice, warm and concerned, came through the door.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you called back, though your voice wavered slightly. “Just having a bit of trouble with this zipper.”
Jude entered the room, his presence instantly calming you. He looked impeccable in his tailored suit, every bit the professional athlete who had just come off an incredible performance at the 2024 Men’s Euros. But here, in this moment, he was just Jude, the man who had captured your heart.
“Let me help,” he offered, moving behind you. His fingers brushed lightly against your bare back as he took hold of the zipper, sending a shiver down your spine. He slowly pulled the zipper upwards, your eyes meeting in the mirror.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered, his voice husky with admiration.
Your breath hitched, a blush creeping up your neck. “Thank you,” you replied softly.
As his fingers lingered on your back, you thought again of Noah. The thought of him brought a pang of sadness that you couldn’t shake.
“Y/N,” Jude’s voice pulled her back to the present. “You okay?”
You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just… thinking about Noah. He should be here.”
Jude’s eyes softened with understanding. “I know. He would have loved this.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But you’re here, and that’s what matters to Rowan."
You nodded, drawing strength from Jude’s presence. “You’re right. Thank you.”
He smiled, his eyes filled with love. “Always.”
You turned to face him fully, your hands resting on his chest. “You look pretty good yourself,” you teased, your voice trembling slightly.
Jude grinned, his eyes darkening with desire. “Well, I have to look my best if I’m going to keep up with you.”
You shared a brief, passionate kiss, the intensity of your love wrapping around you. When you finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, you felt a thrill of excitement. Despite the sadness, despite your doubts, this day held a promise of happiness and love.
“We should get downstairs,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.
Jude stole one more quick kiss. “Yeah, we should,” he agreed, but his eyes told her he was in no rush. You steal one last kiss, before Jude gestures an arm for you to take and you slowly make their way down the stairs.
You and Jude arrived at the wedding reception, a beautifully decorated hall filled with flowers and twinkling lights. The soft murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses created a warm, celebratory atmosphere. You found a quiet corner near the entrance, waiting for the rest of your family to arrive.
You fidgeted with the strap of your bra, trying to adjust it discreetly. Jude noticed your discomfort and stepped in front of you, shielding you from view.
"Need some help?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.
"Just trying to fix this strap," you whispered back, your fingers fumbling with the fabric.
Jude placed his hands gently on your shoulders, his body acting as a shield while you adjusted your strap. He kept glancing down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and admiration.
"Is something wrong?" You asked, noticing his intense gaze.
Jude's lips curled into a small smile. "No, nothing's wrong. It's just... you look really hot right now."
Your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. "Thanks," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jude's hand slid from your shoulder to your waist, pulling you closer. "Seriously, you’re making it very hard to focus on anything else," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. His other hand rested briefly on your ass, giving a gentle squeeze before moving away as he heard footsteps approaching.
Your heart raced, the heat between you two intensifying. "Who says you have to?" You whispered back, your fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him even closer.
Jude's eyes darkened, his other hand drifting down to your hip, fingers lightly grazing the fabric of your dress. His lips found your neck, planting soft, teasing kisses along your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut, a soft gasp escaping your lips. His touch was intoxicating, and for a moment, you were lost in your own world.
"You're driving me crazy," Jude whispered against your skin, his voice husky.
Your breath hitched as his hand trailed up your back, lingering at the nape of your neck. "Good," she managed to say, your voice shaking with desire.
Jude pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mix of lust and affection. "If we weren't at your brother's wedding..."
You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. "I know."
Your moment was intense, the world around you fading as you both focused solely on each other. Jude's thumb brushed against your jawline, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Before you could get further lost in each other, the sound of approaching footsteps and voices broke their intimate bubble. You reluctantly pulled apart, your connection still palpable, and turned to face the incoming relatives.
As you and Jude were still adjusting from your intimate moment, Aunt Karen approached with her warm smile, her eyes flickering with a hint of curiosity. "Y/N, darling! It’s so good to see you!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. Then she turned to Jude, her eyes twinkling with familiarity. "And Jude, always a pleasure. How’s everything going?"
Jude smiled, his gaze locking onto yours, a silent message passing between you two. "Good to see you, Aunt Karen," he replied smoothly, but there was a heat in his eyes that made Your breath catch.
You gave a distracted smile, your attention drifting back to the way Jude’s tuxedo fit him perfectly, accentuating the strong lines of his body. Your heart skipped a beat, the memory of their earlier closeness still tingling on your skin. You could feel the warmth of his touch lingering, and despite the ongoing conversation, all you could think about was how impossibly handsome he looked tonight.
Your Grandma appeared next, her eyes sharp yet affectionate as she took in the sight of you two. "Well, if it isn’t my favorite couple," she said with a teasing lilt in her voice, her gaze lingering on the space between you. "I must say, Jude, you’re looking dashing tonight."
Jude's smile widened, but his hand subtly brushed against You, sending a thrill up her spine. "Thank you. It’s great to see you," he responded, though his attention never fully left you.
Your gaze lingered on Jude, your thoughts clouded with admiration and something deeper, something that made your heart race. Your Grandma’s words barely registered as she continued, “And how was the Euro final? We were all glued to the TV, cheering for you!”
Your Uncle Michael joined the conversation, his face lit up with excitement. "We were screaming the house down! Me and the lads from the pub couldn’t believe it when you scored that winning goal. Everyone was talking about it!”
You shifted uncomfortably. The praise directed at Jude felt overwhelming, especially as your own achievements were being overshadowed. They each forgot the Women’s World Cup again, with the conversation seemingly revolved solely around Jude’s Euro final. You bit your lip, focusing on Jude’s sleek, tailored tux instead of voicing your frustration, but the intensity of your feelings were hard to ignore.
Another relative, Cousin Lisa, chimed in enthusiastically, “Honestly, Jude, you were phenomenal. The whole neighborhood was talking about it. I think they’re still raving about it!”
Jude’s eyes shifted to you, noticing your distant expression. He could sense your discomfort, the subtle tension between you growing as he decided to address it with a hint of humor. “Well, I don’t know. What do you think, Y/N?” he asked, his voice low and teasing as he glanced at you with a playful smirk.
Uncle Michael raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “What would she know? She’s not the one who made it to the final.”
Jude chuckled, his gaze never leaving you. “Actually, I think Y/N has a pretty good perspective. She didn’t just make it to the final—she won the whole Women’s World Cup,” he said, his voice carrying a mix of pride and admiration.
The room fell silent for a moment, and you felt a surge of pride and attraction. The way Jude acknowledged your achievements made your heart race, adding to the growing warmth between you. You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his with a newfound intensity, the air between you tao crackling with unspoken desire.
"Well, congratulations to both of you," Aunt Karen said, her voice sincere. "You both have so much to be proud of."
You managed a smile, though your attention remained focused on Jude. His presence, the way he spoke up for you, and the genuine admiration in his eyes made your heart swell with affection, and something more—a hunger that you couldn’t quite quell.
As the relatives continued to chat and praise Jude, you found it difficult to pull your gaze away from him. His tuxedo, his confident demeanor, and his unwavering support for you in front of everyone only amplified your attraction to him. It was a reminder of why you were so drawn to him, beyond the accolades and the excitement of the evening.
Amid the chatter, you reached out and took Jude’s hand under the table, your fingers lacing with his. You squeezed it gently, your touch lingering. "Thanks for standing up for me," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.
Jude’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb brushing against your hand in a slow, deliberate caress. "Anytime," he replied, his voice low and reassuring, filled with a promise of more.
As you continued to mingle, the focus gradually shifted back to the others, but your thoughts were miles away, lost in the way Jude’s touch made you feel. There was a contentment in knowing that despite the overshadowing praise, you had Jude by your side.
As you and Jude settled into your seats in the church, the soft murmur of guests filled the air, blending with the gentle strains of the prelude music. Your attention was immediately drawn to Isabella, your six-year-old niece, who stood near the front with the other bridesmaids. Isabella, or Bella as the family fondly called her, looked absolutely adorable in her tiny ivory dress, a crown of flowers delicately perched atop her bouncy curls.
Your face lit up as she leaned forward, unable to contain her excitement. “Bella, you look like an absolute princess!” You gushed, your eyes twinkling with pride.
Bella smiled brightly, her cheeks flushing with happiness. She gave a little twirl, letting the layers of her dress float around her. “Thank you, Aunty Y/N! Do you really like it?” she asked, her voice full of hope.
“I love it,” You replied warmly, your smile wide and genuine. “You’re the most beautiful bridesmaid here.”
Jude sat beside you, his eyes soft as he watched the exchange. There was something incredibly heartwarming about the way you interacted with Bella—how you made the little girl feel so special and loved. He could see the natural ease with which you connected with your niece, and it stirred something deep within him.
As Bella giggled and skipped off to join the other bridesmaids, your gaze lingered on her, still glowing with affection. You turned back to Jude, your expression full of warmth. “She’s such a sweetheart, isn’t she?” You said, your voice tinged with pride.
Jude nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “She really is,” he agreed, but his mind was elsewhere.
Watching you with Bella made Jude think about your future together. He could so clearly imagine you as a mother, holding your own children with the same tenderness you showed Bella. The thought filled him with a deep sense of warmth and anticipation, a quiet longing that he kept to himself. He knew how much you cared for your niece, but he also knew that the idea of starting a family someday made you nervous. It was something you hadn’t really discussed, and Jude didn’t want to push it, especially not now.
Instead, he simply admired you, letting the image of your possible future settle in his heart. You had a way of making people feel cherished, and he knew you would be an incredible mother someday—but that was a conversation for another time.
You noticed the thoughtful look on Jude’s face and gave him a gentle nudge. “What are you thinking about?” You asked, you tone light and curious.
Jude shook off his thoughts, offering her a soft smile. “Just how good you are with Bella,” he said, keeping his voice casual.
Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you laughed softly. “She’s been my little Bella since the day she was born,” you replied, your voice filled with affection.
Jude squeezed your hand gently, his smile lingering as you turned your attention back to the front of the church, where the ceremony was about to begin. He didn’t need to say anything more. For now, he was content to simply be by your side, holding onto the quiet knowledge of what he hoped your future would hold—dreaming of a day when you would be ready to take that next step together.
The ceremony soon began, and You watched as your sister Eden took her place as a bridesmaid, while your brother Elliot stood proudly as Rowan’s best man. The anticipation grew as everyone waited for the bride.
As the music swelled, the doors at the end of the aisle opened, and Rosemary appeared, radiant in her wedding gown. You felt a lump form in your throat as you saw Rowan at the altar, his eyes brimming with tears as he watched his bride walk towards him. The emotion in the room was palpable, and you felt yourself getting choked up.
You couldn’t contain your excitement, smiling and gushing as you watched your brother. You had never seen Rowan so happy, and the joy in his eyes was contagious. Although you wished Noah could be there to witness this moment, your heart swelled with happiness for Rowan.
Little Isabella, the flower girl, walked ahead of Rosemary, carrying a basket of petals. Every few steps, she would delicately sprinkle the flowers along the aisle, her concentration adorable. You couldn’t help but admire Isabella’s dedication to her role, smiling each time the little girl looked up with pride.
Jude noticed the way your eyes lit up, how you seemed to be the embodiment of joy and love in that moment. He was completely besotted with you, watching you as you took in every detail of the ceremony. He knew, without a doubt, that you were the one he wanted to spend his life with.
The officiant began the ceremony, and soon it was time for Rowan and Rosemary to exchange vows. Rosemary took a deep breath and smiled at Rowan.
“Rowan, from the moment Noah introduced us, I knew you were special. I promise to always laugh at your jokes, even the terrible ones. I vow to support you in your dreams and to love you fiercely, no matter what.”
Rowan chuckled, wiping away a tear. “Rosemary, I promise to always let you have the last slice of pizza. I vow to support your dreams and to love you through every adventure, every challenge, and every joy.”
Jude felt his throat tighten, his emotions mirroring the couple’s. As Rowan and Rosemary exchanged their vows, he couldn’t help but imagine standing up there with you one day, saying those same words, making those same promises. The thought made his heart swell with a mixture of hope and longing.
The mention of Noah made your tears spill over, and you rested your head on Jude’s shoulder, finding comfort in his presence. Jude’s eyes were misty too, and he wiped away a tear discreetly, his emotions matching yours. He tightened his grip on you, feeling a surge of protectiveness and love.
As Rowan and Rosemary shared their first kiss as a married couple, the guests erupted into applause. You joined in, your heart full despite the bittersweet memories. You looked up at Jude, who smiled down at you with so much love and understanding that it made you feel incredibly grateful to have him by yiur side.
“It was beautiful, wasn’t it?” Jude whispered, his voice slightly choked with emotion.
You nodded, wiping your tears. “Yeah, it really was.”
You sat there for a moment, soaking in the love and joy that filled the room. Jude’s thoughts wandered to the future, to the possibility of a life with you, filled with moments like this. He couldn’t help but dream of standing at an altar, looking into your eyes, and making vows of his own.
Later that evening, the reception is in full swing. The dance floor is alive with energy, guests mingling and celebrating Rowan and Rosemary’s union. The lights are dimmed, casting a warm, intimate glow over the scene.
You find yourself in the middle of the dance floor, smiling as Jude lifts little Isabella onto his shoulders. Her giggles are infectious as she waves her arms, trying to keep up with the rhythm. You dance alongside your sister Eden, the two of you moving in sync, laughing and twirling.
Isabella’s laughter rings out, her tiny hands clapping in delight. "More, more!" she shouts, and Jude obliges, spinning around and making her squeal with joy. Your heart swells with love as you watch Jude interact with your family. He fits in so perfectly, and it makes you think about what the future might hold for both of you.
You glance around the room, taking in the sight of your loved ones celebrating together. Rowan and Rosemary are glowing with happiness, sharing a private moment at their table. Your parents are dancing nearby, looking as in love as ever. The warmth and joy of the occasion fill you with a sense of peace. God, Noah would've loved this.
The DJ’s voice echoes through the speakers, “Can all couples please make their way to the floor for a slow dance?”
Isabella is gently lifted off Jude’s shoulders and handed over to Eden, who continues to twirl and dance with her. Jude turns to you, extending his hand with a playful bow. "May I have this dance?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with affection.
You giggle and take his hand, allowing him to lead you to the center of the floor. The music slows, and the soft, romantic melody fills the room. Jude’s hands find their way to your waist, pulling you close. You wrap your arms around his neck, and together you sway gently to the rhythm.
As you move together, everything else seems to fade away. The chatter of the guests, the clinking of glasses, and even the music itself become a distant hum. It’s as if time has stopped, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.
You look up at Jude, taking in his appearance. He’s wearing a tailored black tuxedo that fits him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and athletic build. His dark hair is styled neatly, and his deep brown eyes are filled with love and adoration as he gazes down at you. The way the dim light catches his features makes him look even more handsome, if that’s possible.
Jude’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes locking onto yours with a gaze that speaks volumes. His hands move gently up and down your back, sending shivers down your spine. You feel so safe, so cherished in his embrace.
“You know,” Jude murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I could get used to this. Dancing with you, being with you. Forever.”
Your heart flutters at his words, your breath catching in your throat. You smile up at him, your eyes misty with emotion. “Me too,” you reply softly. “Me too.”
You lose yourself in his eyes, feeling the world around you blur into insignificance. His touch is gentle yet firm, grounding you in the moment. The way he looks at you makes you feel like the only person in the room, and you know without a doubt that this is where you’re meant to be.
The music envelops you both, the melody weaving a cocoon of intimacy around you. You rest your head on Jude’s shoulder, closing your eyes and savoring the feeling of being held by him. His scent, a mix of cologne and something uniquely him, fills your senses, making you feel even closer to him.
You’re wearing a stunning dress that’s a mix of red and black, the fabric clinging to your curves in all the right places. The intricate lace details add an air of elegance, while the deep red color highlights your features, making your eyes sparkle. Your hair is styled in loose waves, cascading down your back, and your makeup is done to perfection, highlighting your natural beauty.
As the song progresses, you feel Jude’s hand slip down to rest on the small of your back, his fingers tracing light patterns that send a thrill through you. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, steady and strong, and it matches the rhythm of your own.
You tilt your head up slightly, your lips brushing against his ear. “I love you" you whisper, the words coming straight from your heart.
Jude tightens his hold on you, his lips grazing your temple. “Me too, your my numero uno.” he replies, his voice filled with emotion.
The world around you ceases to exist as you sway together, completely lost in each other. You feel a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of peace and happiness you’ve never known before. Being with Jude feels like home.
As the song comes to an end, Jude leans down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. It’s a promise, a silent vow of the future you both dream of. When you pull apart, the room comes back into focus, but the magic of the moment lingers.
You glance over to see Rowan and Rosemary sharing a similar moment, their love shining brightly. Your parents are still dancing, your mom resting her head on your dad’s shoulder with a contented smile. Even little Isabella is now nestled in Eden’s arms, looking sleepy but happy.
You feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the love and support surrounding you. And as you look back at Jude, you see the same emotion mirrored in his eyes. He gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering on your cheek.
“Ready for another dance?” he asks, his smile soft and inviting.
You nod, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Always,” you say, your voice filled with love.
The next song begins, and you lose yourself in Jude’s embrace once more. As you move together, you notice Jude’s expression shifts slightly, a familiar look of deep contemplation crossing his face.
“What is it?” you ask softly, curiosity piqued.
Jude looks slightly startled. “What do you mean?”
“You did that face earlier,” you insist. “What is it you’re not telling me?”
Jude hesitates, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “It’s nothing, really.”
“Jude, tell me!” you press, your eyes searching his.
He sighs softly, pulling you a little closer. “It’s just... when you were with Bella earlier, I couldn’t help but imagine what you’d be like with our kids. And when you were looking at Rosemary during the ceremony, all I could think about was how beautiful you’ll be when we get married.”
You’re taken aback by his honesty, your heart skipping a beat. “Jude...”
He quickly continues, sensing your apprehension. “I know, not now. But I also know that I want it with you. Whenever that is.”
You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and love there. It’s a lot to take in, but there’s a comforting certainty in his words. He isn’t pushing, just sharing his dreams, dreams that now feel a little less frightening and a lot more wonderful.
“I... I want that too,” you admit softly, your voice trembling slightly. “Someday.”
Jude smiles, a look of pure adoration on his face. “Then someday it is,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you again, sealing the promise with a tender touch.
As the music plays on and you continue to dance, the future seems a little clearer, a little brighter. And with Jude by your side, you know that whatever comes, you’ll face it together.
#fanfiction#jude bellingham#leah williamson#womens world cup#england football#englandwomensfootball#womens football#football fanfic#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham x you#judebellingham x footballreader#jude bellingham fanfiction#jude bellingham fanfic#euros24#footballereader#footballer x reader#football imagine#football#worldclassseries#bellingham x reader#bellingham
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Waited
Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader
Genre: smut (18+)
warnings: mentions of mental health/poor self image, drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, cheating, violence (nothing explicit), oral, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, degrading, spanking, marking, jealous Yoongi, rip Namjoon, bi Taehyung
Length: ~4.2k
Note: this originally was gonna be a short FWB smut but alas nothing turns out like i plan hahahahahahahahah shoot me thank you @the-boy-meets-evil and @onlyhuis for subjecting yourselves to this mess.
Summary: Best friends since childhood means you can tell each other anything. Right?
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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
Yoongi enters your world three days before you turn six years old. His parents buy the house across the cul de sac that's sat empty for months and show up with a moving truck and their two sons. While they're unpacking your mom walks over to welcome them to the neighborhood and you hide behind her leg to stare at the boy with a choppy bowl cut who stares right back from behind his own mom’s leg.
You dub Yoongi your best friend in fourth grade. It’s a silent declaration but one he quickly falls in line with. He’d always been the smallest in class, easy cannon fodder for bullies that want to push around the quiet kid. One time too many people called him stupid under their breath and you snapped. After school detention for three weeks and a handwritten apology addressed to the boy with a broken nose is the price you pay but no one messes with him again after that.
The first time you realize your best friend is handsome is senior year of high school. An hour before prom your date decided he wanted to go with someone else and Yoongi, who had zero interest in “cliche, organized humiliation rituals” trugged across the pavement to your house in a borrowed tux too big in the shoulders.
He posed for pictures while both your parents cooed, hands respectable at your waist as you both smiled through the awkwardness. His brother drops you both off and slips a contraband flask full of shitty alcohol in Yoongi’s hand before taking off.
You pretended not to notice when Jisung and Yoongi both simultaneously disappeared, only to reappear twenty minutes later; Yoongi sporting bruised knuckles and the traces of what would become a black eye come the next morning along with a split lip. Instead, you take another sip of what must be gasoline and pull him to the dance floor. During the singular slow dance he allotted, with your head against his shoulder and the reak of his older brother’s after shave burning your nose, you realized you wouldn’t mind if he kissed you.
The rest of the night is spent emptying your guts in Yoongi’s ensuite because your parents were so confident nothing would happen between the two of you that sleepovers at Yoongi’s were too common.
The first time you kiss Yoongi is also the night you lose your virginity. Your sophomore year boyfriend broke up with you two days before finals. Yoongi couldn’t stand Taehyung or the way you apparently believed he shit rainbows so you expected him to find nothing but joy in the news.
But when you showed up outside his apartment, elephant tears streaking down your face as you gasped around an explanation, Yoongi said nothing. He simply walked into the kitchen, pulled out the bottle of liquor he saved for special occasions, and passed it to you along with a shot glass.
He let your drunken sobs stain the collar of his shirt until you laughed yourself hysterical at the irony of it all. How Taehyung claimed he wasn’t ready for anything serious when he pursued you first, how he broke up with you after you told him you weren’t ready for anything physical.
“Fuck him,” Yoongi grumbled, burrowed between the pillows of his bed.
Your head lulled onto his shoulder with a snort, “I think that was part of the problem.”
Then you kissed him and Yoongi kissed you back. And when you planted yourself in his lap and touched him, he took the chance to touch you too. At some point your clothes were gone, allowing your best friend to take as much liberty as he liked. But even though the details are fuzzy you know he was gentle and devout. Yoongi took all the time in the world, pushing and pushing until you almost broke and melted to the floor.
And after all was said and done you cried while Yoongi held you until your eyes swelled shut.
The next day Taehyung called and asked to work things out. Like a naive fool you agreed and then two years passed in a blink before you caught him fucking the doe eyed underclassmen from his fraternity the night of graduation.
You wanted Yoongi but the last time you ran crying to him about Taehyung sat in the back of your mind. Since that day he’d taken a step back, missing your calls or dodging plans. Still your best friend but not present like before. Half your own fault because he warned you getting back with Taehyung was a bad idea but rather than listen, you told him to fuck off and mind his business. So he did and managed to get a girlfriend in the process.
But the universe has a weird way of shoving people together. Sipping from a bottle on the steps to the should-be-condemned house you rented with six other girls, eyes glassy and unfocused, you didn’t realize someone was calling your name until he sat down beside you.
“I heard,” Yoongi says, snagging your drink and downing his own mouthful before going back for seconds.
Your lips bruise under your teeth, the pain barely managing to consume your focus away from the new wave of tears threatening to crop up. “That I’m an idiot?”
Cold hands find the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, pulling it back up in the places it's dropped before curling around your frame and wrangling you into the boney side of his.
“That Taehyung is still an asshole.”
It's too familiar. Your hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt, his neck wet with your cries. Yoongi barely managed to get you upstairs and in bed without fuss, a plethora of pathetic cries none of your roommates are around to hear blurring your vision.
“Where’s Tiffany?” You ask, fumbling into the mattress. You’ll ask him anything to get your mind of the hurt.
Yoongi fought to tuck you in, shoving you back into the pillows everytime you tried to get up and attempted to convince him to go to the bars where your classmates are currently celebrating. Where Taehyung is probably strung out across whoever will give him the time of day.
He lets you pull him into a hug when a new wave of sadness erupts. It’s the first time you get a good look at him in months despite the blur in your vision. Silver in the streetlights flooding through the slits of the blinds, the dark dye he used to appease his mom washing out at the fried tips of his hair. Any more to drink and you’d convince yourself this is all some cruel dream. A ghost of the past haunting you in misery.
Yoongi might as well be. Nearly two years gone from the face of the Earth, only to be caught in short glimpses at parties or between class changes. Both of you spent the time reserved for each other with new people.
You missed him.
He turns to leave too soon; already halfway to the door before you speak.
“Stay?”
Even in your double vision you see the crack in Yoongi’s mask, the regret swelling to the surface. “She’s waiting back at my place.”
The summer comes with the suffocating muggy heat of your childhood home. Your parents fail to stifle their thrill Taehyung is out of the picture, more content to pretend he never existed in the first place.
Everyday blurs together, a routine you’ve maintained since you can remember. Hot days by the pool in your parents backyard (without Yoongi hiding in the shade), dinner at the greasy restaurant by the river with friends (but not Yoongi), and packing your room one last time (which holds too many memories of Yoongi).
The news comes from your mom.
She probes for information about the last time you heard from your neighbor turned friend turned stranger, complaining she misses having him around like when you were kids, asking what he’s been up to lately. It’s evident by your short response you haven’t heard yet.
He’s on the dilapidated swing set in his parents backyard when you find him. Shoulders slumped, toeing in the dirt, while he gazes beyond the treeline.
Silently, you take a seat in the second swing, ignoring the way the wood creaks under your weight. Without a word he hands you his phone. The screen is bright with the last messages.
Tiffany: you just seem to have a lot going on…
Tiffany: i don’t know if I can handle all of it
You hand back the device. There's nothing to say. Cursing her till you’re blue in the face won’t make him feel better and neither will platitudes. Yoongi won’t believe anything contrary to what she said, at least not right now when he’s reeling from a blow to his most vulnerable parts.
So you sit in silence until the moon swells in the sky. He isn’t ready to talk about it when you both fumble down to his parents basement. Or when he hits the Rick and Morty bong Seokjin bought him for Secret Santa years ago. Definitely not when he tries to kiss you and you let him. And not when you end up in his lap, both naked and fighting to detach from what exists beyond the tattered upholstery of the couch.
Yoongi finally speaks hours later, shoulder to shoulder in the comforting murky darkness of his room. You both still have the heated glow of bare skin sticking together where you touch but it turns clammy when he spills his guts.
He told her those three words after meeting her parents the week before. The first girl you’ve ever seen him be serious about. She said them back but Yoongi didn’t believe her. And the proof he was right sits immortalized in texts messages.
Each word cuts like a knife. Admitting his hurt, his vulnerabilities and weaknesses before shifting the focus to something safer like your break up from May and if Taehyung has tried anything.
He softens when your lips crest his shoulder. The lingering franticness fades with each peck as you move across his chest, then his throat, then his lips. Because you know Yoongi wants to talk about this once and never again. Needs to put it behind him before it becomes too real.
You leave for the city two weeks later and Yoongi follows after managing to snag a shitty IT job. He spends more time at your apartment than his own and when the girl you met through a roommate group moves out, Yoongi moves in.
Maybe it becomes too common of an occurrence. What was once reserved as an escape from the crushing weight of rejection, a way to find comfort in each other more than before, turned into a quick fix at the slightest annoyance. When you’re too pent up or Yoongi had a hard day. If you were feeling insecure after another failed date, or he simply wanted an easy lay with someone who knew how to get him off without the awkward pauses of learning.
Now, Yoongi bends you over the counter at three in the morning, lapping at your cunt like he didn’t have you sitting on his face before leaving for Namjoon's apartment to pre-game. The dig of the marble edge in your ribs is less alluring than the comfort of your bed; but what Yoongi wants he more often than not gets, so how do you refuse when he shuffles you into an Uber with hunger in his gaze and possessiveness in the grip on your thigh.
“Yoongi,” you sigh. Reaching back, one of your hands anchors in the short tufts of his hair, pressing him firmer into the ache of your pussy.
The tug of the cool counter top against your nipples works in his favor, leaving you desperate with a hitch in your throat each time you rock back into his waiting tongue. It dips into your opening, wedged between his fingers that dig into your walls just right after years of practice. Yoongi knows how to push all your buttons, he’s sewed half of them on.
Your forehead meets the marble on the next swell of his tongue except this time is across your ass and punctuated with a bite you’ll feel next time you sit. A harsh clench around his fingers grants you sinful drag of his tongue across the hole only ever explored by him.
“Fuc–Yoongi!”
Sloppy kisses follow your spine until he’s at your ear with his cock resting against the meat of your ass. You're bent back at the waist once again so he can pluck at your nipples the way he likes, until you're shuddering away and pleading for mercy in a way meant to spur him further.
“Bet Namjoon wouldn’t do this,” Yoongi grunts with a tease of his cock inside, bare.
He’ll never let you forget the semester of freshman year you drooled for his friend's dick while Namjoon remained none the wiser. Every unconscious shut down sent Yoongi into a sadistic fit of laughter until you cut your losses and called it quits.
You know why he’s bringing it up now. Namjoon looked good tonight. Newly single with a buzzcut that ruined most men’s allure. Maybe you contemplated re-igniting the old flame when he first showed up but now there's history and comradery that didn't exist in your younger days and it's too complicated just for the chance to satiate your curiosity. They’re all the same reasons you shouldn’t be fucking your best friend since grade school but none of it seems to have the same weight.
It didn’t matter what you decided because Yoongi saw enough temptation in your gaze to bring it up like he isn’t the one fucking you regularly.
Your pants fog across the marble. “Should we call and find out?”
His palm stings into your ass, heating the skin on impact. The opportunity to neg him into another smack passes too quickly. You’re already at the mercy of Yoongi’s mouth on yours, the taste of whiskey, stale cigarettes, and your pussy less than appealing but his tongue is hot when he licks behind your teeth.
A hand takes up the work between your legs, rough and rushed as you trapeze down the hallway towards the bedroom. Yoongi thumbs at your clit with intent. You nearly collapse against the wall with buckled knees from the onslaught of too much stimulation.
Breaching the bedroom door proves too much a struggle. Yoongi bounces off the door jam from a rough grope against his zipper which leaves you flailing before catching in the corner of the mattress. His room is too damn small for the king bed he insisted on but it makes for a great backdrop to your fucking. Miles better than the more practical queen hidden in your room further down the hall.
You manage to push him off long enough to dig your knees into the sheets, crawling to the pillows with an arch you know he’ll rib you for later.
“Coming?” You ask over your shoulder, eyeing the flash of his boxers creeping through the opening of his zipper.
Flopping on your back, you splay across the over abundance of pillows like a queen while Yoongi works off his pants. His hair is a mess and a bruise the size of your mouth blooms high enough on his neck he’ll have to wear turtlenecks for the next two weeks. “Spread your legs.”
“Do you one better.” It's a goad in the most obvious sense. He likes to watch you huff, failing to get yourself off until he intervenes and gives exactly what you need. So you throw your legs wide, bent at the knees just to make it clearer in the faint light spilling from the window, and sink a hand down and play with the mess he caused. “Mmmm, Yoongi.”
“Finger it for me,” he drawls.
Muscles melt at the first pass inside your already battered walls. Not as deft as his fingers but you won’t tell him that unprompted. Yoongi’s ego is big enough when it comes to your sex life, fueled by the knowledge he’s collected many of your firsts. But the way he palms over his underwear in mimic of your rhythm tempts you to break that rule.
“Come here.”
Yoongi just smirks at the demand, pushing the mess of his pants off until he’s bare and the maroon head of his cock makes you drool. “You come here.”
“I’m not playing naked chicken.” You growl. “Come fuck me before I get my vibrator.”
Flipping on your front with your ass in the air, you drive a hard bargain Yoongi’s never been capable of saying no to. The bed dips behind you, knees between your own, shuffling them wider so he can stretch you until you’re pliant and aching.
His chest melts to your back, sticking uncomfortable but you don’t care because it feels good. Like he’s consuming you. “How bad do you want it?” Yoongi bites into your shoulder.
“Yoongi, fuck.” Your arms collapse under the first rush of his hips, spin dipping harshly to take every inch until he’s flat against your rear.
In a blink, you’re parallel to the mattress, pinned under his weight. It’s pathetic for so early in the game but Yoongi is the same man who gave you so many orgasms you’ve cried so it only stands to reason he crumbles your bravado like it's nothing.
Sniffling in his hold, you turn to nose at his cheek over your shoulder. “Please, fuck me.”
“Shit,” he spits with a harsh thrust. “You’re so fucking tight for me.”
The next press of his hips leaves you heaving. Your hands scramble when he cants a bruising pace against your ass. Hard. All while every noise he tries to hide sings straight into your ear.
With immense effort, you wiggle onto your back. Yoongi meets you with a kiss, tongue to tongue while he works back inside where you both need him most.
The callous of his palm rakes against your throat, not squeezing, just a possessive firmness.
“H-harder,” you beg, nails leaving crescents in his shoulder.
Yoongi hitches your thigh over his; slowing so he can fuck you deeper, crushing every noise hiding in your gut out.
Shocked from the sudden rush against your clit, your leg kicks out straight. It’ll leave you sore in the hips come morning but right now you don’t even register the discomfort. “Oh, oh, oh!”
“Like that?” Somehow he manages to drag the head of his cock deeper from the praise.
“Just like that,” you pant into his mouth.
He leans back to watch your decay into desperation but stops when you tug him back by the sensitive roots of his hair. Cracking open your eyes, you find his brown ones inches away. Forehead to forehead while you both synthesize into a heap of flushed skin and need.
Fingers intertwined, Yoongi pins your hand on the pillow. Then he stares. Not at your face as you crest the first wave of an orgasm but your fingers curled between his. Like he’s never done it before, like he doesn’t know exactly how you two got in this position.
“Oh my god, Yoongi.”
You cum hard. Nearly managing to drive him out from the force to your insides. Every muscle twisting tighter and tighter until it breaks and when you pull his mouth back to yours all you can do is shake under his lips with cracked mewls.
Yoongi might be shaking too but he swells inside you with a groan, collapsing into your neck before your brain catches up to consider the idea.
Dodging an attempt at a final kiss, he favors his lips on your throat. Fleeting wet pecks that get you choking on air. Then your breasts where he takes up his abandoned work on your nipples, teeth flashing across the sensitive peaks until your shoulders cave and you're desperate for him again; grinding into the fingers he’s so readily supplies.
He’s fucked you like this before. When he has something to prove to the non-existent entity constantly creeping on his subconscious, when he feels he isn’t good enough in some intangible way. Asking him what's wrong won’t do anything. Yoongi will tell you when he’s ready; if he ever is. Years of friendship and the fear you’ll see a part of him capable of scaring you away still eats him alive. So you’ll give him whatever reassurance he needs this way and hope he understands.
Your second orgasm comes faster than the first. Trails of the previous pleasure pushing you swiftly along. Yoongi latches his lips around your clit and sucks until spots flash and your thighs nearly crush his head.
“Fuck, Yoongi. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You cry, threatening to fold in half under his fingers. “G-gonna cum again.”
Flares of lightning in your blood explode. Throat raw from wailing, Yoongi works you through until you dig your ankle into his ribs and kick him off.
The cold air in the room helps cool your feverish skin unlike the dark haired man flopping next to you. It’s quiet around two sets of gasping breaths and the rain tapping at the window.
Shoulder to shoulder, you calm in the drum of the overhead fan. Yoongi’s fingers tangling and untangling with your own confirms your suspicion. Whatever he needs to tell you bubbles below the surface, swirling until he finds the safest words to share his feelings. There's no point in guessing but it doesn’t stop you from spiraling through the possibilities.
The major suspects lack any clear indication. His date last weekend ended with mutual disinterest. Nothing concerning his job registers in your vague memory. Both your parents were fine the last time you visited months ago. Yoongi’s nephew is fine—
“I told my mom you're my girlfriend.”
Well that's new. “Oh.”
“It was an accident but—”
“What’d she say?” You cut him off.
Yoongi hesitates. Your voice doesn’t betray disdain or hope, only reluctant curiosity. If you set too many expectations he’ll clam up and avoid you for months like when he lost his virginity at a party freshman year. Yoongi shares on his terms and you listen.
“That it was about time I got my head out of my ass.”
You wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. Yoongi’s palm slick against your own betrays his nerves, the ghost of squeeze begs for some kind of reassurance he isn’t crazy.
“Huh.” You exclaim to the ceiling. It’s not the worst idea. And its definitely not the first time you’ve entertained it.
He lets you go the second you tug on your connected hands, anticipating swift rejection that leaves you feeling sour. But you’re rolling into his chest, the now free hand protecting his sternum from the dig of your chin so you can stare him down until he finally blinks your way. You won’t let Yoongi wiggle away from this ten year overdue conversation.
“Is that what you want?”
The answer is clear in his eyes. Yoongi’s mouth rounds over the words to tell you, floundering silently because he’ll admit he isn’t good at things like this. But if it’s worth it to him then you need to hear him say it.
Rising up, you sit bare in his lap while he works through his nerves. Finally, when your hand cups his cheek and his eyes sink closed, leaning into the warmth, he tells you.
“That’s what I want.”
Your nose wrinkles with a shy smile. “Kinda cliche.”
Yoongi snorts when you kiss him but melts the cold facade swiftly.
“Yeah well,” he huff. “So is losing your virginity to your prom date but let's not talk about that.” Yoongi may spit the words but his hands, gentle where they trace the curve of your sides, betray his euphoria.
“We can talk about that too if you want.” You whisper into his jaw, lips prickling from the shadow growing there. “Prom me probably would have let you fuck her.”
“Yeah?”
You choke on a laugh at the pleased shock on his face. “Yeah, but not after that black eye came in.”
“Cheap fucking shot.” He grumbles under his breath, but you’re already there kissing the words from his lips. Yoongi indulges, melting further into the bed when his tongue timidly slips along yours. After you dip away to press more languid pecks where his cheeks round, he speaks again. “If I asked you out then what would you have said?”
“Well the only reason I said yes to whats-his-fuck was because someone else was too stubborn to ask me himself.” You hum in his ear. “Does that answer your question?”
You're on your back in a flash, pinned under your boyfriend who smiles as you flounder and fail to push him off.
“You need to be nicer to me,” he grunts when you knock out his arms and collapse his chest to yours.
“If you wanted someone nicer, then you had years to figure that out.”
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© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
#kvanity#ksmutsociety#yoongi x reader#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#yoongi fanfic#min yoongi smut#min yoongi fluff#min yoongi angst#min yoongi#yoongi smut#yoongi fic#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#bts smut#bts fluff#bts angst#🫡 highvern
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Oooh the grid kids series is pure joy! I think it's really cool idea, especially because the drivers spend so much time around one another. Can i request one where maybe back in the day, rbr!seb and y/n were the grid kids of like mark and michael and jenson and back to present times, seb's grid kids are weirded out to see jenson and mark treat seb and y/n as their grid kids please. If that makes sense
Grid Kids: Gentlemen, a Short View Back to the Past
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: once upon a time, the grid parents were grid kids themselves
Series Masterlist
When We Were Young
“Oi lovebirds! Stop canoodling in the garage, will ya?” Mark Webber chuckles, teasingly nudging Sebastian as you blush, having been caught stealing a quick kiss with your boyfriend in the middle of the chaotic paddock.
Michael, ever the protective figure, chimes in, “Leave them alone, Mark. It’s sweet. Remember when we were young and in love?” He winks at Sebastian, who grins, clearly relishing in having backup.
Jenson, leaning against a tire stack, chuckles, “Speak for yourself. Some of us still have it.” He sends you a playful wink and you laugh.
Sebastian wraps an arm around you, “Honestly, with the three of you as mentors, I’m surprised I’ve learned anything about racing.”
You smirk, “Maybe they're preparing you for the important race — the race of life?”
Mark snorts, “Deep, Y/N. Very deep.”
Michael smiles, a nostalgic look in his eyes, “You know, Y/N, you remind me a lot of my wife back in the day. Always grounding us racers, making sure our heads don’t get too big.”
Jenson nods in agreement, “True that. You have a way of making sure Seb here doesn’t drift into the clouds.”
Sebastian rolls his eyes, “Oh come on! You guys are just trying to get on Y/N’s good side because she’s the only one who brings proper coffee to the track.”
You giggle, “Guilty as charged. Can’t have my grid parents falling asleep at the wheel now, can I?”
Rain, Rain, Go Away
Sebastian and you stand with Jenson and Mark, sheltering under an awning as rain pours down, delaying the race. Michael ambles over, shaking off his umbrella.
Sebastian grins, “Typical Spa weather, huh?”
Jenson chuckles, “Isn’t it just? Every year I hope for sun by some miracle and every year...” He gestures at the rain dramatically.
You sigh, “I packed for a summer trip. Look at this!” You motion to your very damp sundress.
Mark smirks, “Rookie mistake. Always pack a wetsuit for Spa.”
Michael nods sagely, “And flippers.”
Oh Simple Thing
The smell of grilled meat wafts through the air as Jenson mans the BBQ at his home. You and Sebastian arrive, bringing along a homemade salad and plenty of sides.
“Ah, the dynamic duo!” Mark greets, pulling you into a friendly hug.
Michael points to the salad, “Trust Y/N to ensure we get our greens. Good on you!”
You wink, “Can’t have you all living on steaks and grilled chicken alone.”
As the evening progresses, stories from their early racing days are exchanged, often leading to fits of laughter. At one point, Mark shares an embarrassing story about Sebastian’s rookie mistake during a test session.
Sebastian groans, burying his face in his hands, “Do we have to bring that up again?”
You pat his back sympathetically, “It’s alright, Seb. Everyone has their moments.”
Jenson, taking a sip of his drink, adds, “That’s true. Just remember, no matter how many times they tease you, you’ve got Y/N in your corner. And that’s worth more than anything.”
Prank or Be Pranked
“Seb! Did you move my helmet?” Jenson calls out, rummaging through his locker as the five of you prepare to go karting, his face a picture of confusion.
Sebastian, feigning innocence, replies, “Why would I do that?”
You, smirking, lean in and whisper to Mark, “Five bucks says he put it on the highest shelf.”
Mark grins, “You’re on.”
As Jenson continues his search, he eventually finds his helmet perched high up, just out of reach. Michael, catching on to the prank, laughs, “Looks like our young prodigy here has learned a few tricks.”
Sebastian shrugs, “Consider it ... training. For reflexes and stuff.”
Jenson, using the handle of a dusty broom to retrieve his helmet, retorts, “Wait till you find out what I’ve done with your boots.”
Sebastian’s eyes widen in horror, “You didn’t!”
“This is going to be a long season.” You lean back against the brick wall as the overgrown children in front of you continue to bicker, fighting a smile.
Thanks for the Memories
Jenson, lounging comfortably in the hospitality area, raises an eyebrow as he watches you try to subtly wipe some oil off Sebastian's face. “You sure you’ve got him all cleaned up for the camera?”
You laugh, looking at a sheepish Sebastian who had been poking around his car earlier. “It’s like looking after a kid sometimes. He’s always getting into something.”
Michael chuckles from across the room, “Ah, young love. Sebastian, she’s got your number. But honestly, Y/N, good on you. We older ones have been trying to teach him some discipline.”
Mark smirks. “To be fair, Michael, I recall a certain someone ending up in a pool with his clothes on in Monaco just last year.”
Michael grins mischievously, “That was different. And anyway, Seb, Y/N, don’t get any ideas.”
You playfully roll your eyes, “Trust me, if he ends up in the water, I won’t be the one pushing him.”
Sebastian wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “But you’d jump in to save me, right?”
You pretend to ponder, “Hmm, depends on how cold the water is.”
Jenson laughs, “Sebastian, you’ve found your match. But seriously, both of you, cherish these moments. The grid, the races, it’s all fleeting. But the relationships, the memories, they last.”
Michael nods in agreement, “Jenson’s right. One day you’ll be the veterans, guiding the young ones. Remember these days, learn from them.”
Mark clinks his water bottle to yours, “To memories and the journey ahead.”
Flintstones, Meet the Flintstones
Michael leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips, “You know, when I started in F1 we didn’t have all this fancy tech and simulations. We relied on instinct.”
Jenson, faking shock, retorts, “Wait, you mean they didn’t have cars back then?”
Sebastian chuckles, glancing at you, “I bet he drove a dinosaur to the track.”
You laugh, “A very fast dinosaur, mind you.”
Mark, trying to keep a straight face, adds, “Michael, be honest. Was your racing suit made of ... loincloth?"
Michael plays along, “Yes and our helmets were carved out of stone.”
You chime in, “I heard they used saber-toothed tigers as pit crews.”
Jenson nods, “Oh, absolutely. And the pit stops? Ten minutes. Had to give the tigers a break.”
Michael rolls his eyes, laughing, “Alright, alright, mock the legend if you must. But remember, young ones, we paved the way.”
Mark grins, “And we’re grateful, old man. But don’t forget, it’s their turn now.”
Sebastian, ever competitive, challenges, “Race you to the track?”
Michael raises an eyebrow, “You sure about that?”
You laugh, “Careful, Seb. He might just bring out his dinosaur.”
Passing the Torch
Michael stands, his presence commanding the room’s attention even without a word spoken. Holding a helmet delicately in his hands, he clears his throat. “In every racer’s life, there comes a time when the tracks call to you a little less, the roar becomes a distant echo, and you realize there’s a world waiting for you outside the paddock.”
He glances over at Sebastian, then to you, emotion shimmering in his eyes. “But before I step into that world, I wanted to leave behind something, a token of gratitude and hope.”
Sebastian’s brow furrows slightly, curiosity evident. “Michael, you’ve already given so much to all of us …”
Michael interrupts with a soft chuckle, “Seb, always impatient! Let me finish.”
He then looks at you, his gaze warm and fatherly, “Y/N, you may not race on the track, but you’ve raced in all our hearts, guiding, supporting, laughing, and cheering louder than everyone else.”
“Sebastian, Y/N,” Michael continues, his voice imbued with emotion, “This helmet, from my last race, isn’t just a piece of equipment. It’s a symbol. A legacy.”
Gently placing the helmet on the table, he pushes it towards the two of you. “It’s about the weight of responsibility, the dreams it carries, the hopes it’s seen, and the love it’s felt.”
The room is silent, the magnitude of the gesture palpable.
Sebastian, clearly moved, speaks up, voice choked with emotion, “Michael, this ... this is ... I’m not sure if we can ever fill the space you leave behind.”
Michael smiles, placing a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, then moving to hug you tightly. “That’s the thing about spaces. They evolve. They change. You two won’t fill my space. You’ll create your own.”
Pulling away, he raises his glass, “To new beginnings, to timeless legacies, and to family. Always to family.”
Back to the Future
As Max saunters into the room, he stops short, eyebrows raised in surprise. Jenson is teasing Sebastian, ruffling his hair like he’s a teenager, while Mark playfully nudges Y/N’s arm, offering her a drink.
Max blinks a few times, trying to process the scene. “Is ... is Jenson giving Seb a noogie?”
George peers over from his conversation with Lando, both their eyes widening. “It looks like it ... and Y/N’s being drawn into some sort of mock arm wrestling with Mark. What alternate reality did we walk into?”
Charles, mouth agape, chuckles, “It’s like watching a nature documentary: Here we observe the older generation asserting their playful dominance over the younger one.”
Lando giggles, nudging George. “Mate, should we jump in? Even the odds a bit?”
Before George can answer, Mick, who’s been observing silently, leans in. “Guys, it’s kind of sweet. You remember the stories they've told about the old days? This is just ... history repeating itself.”
Max, still trying to wrap his head around the scene, shakes his head with a laugh. “Never thought I’d see the day when Seb gets his hair messed up and doesn’t immediately fix it.”
Lance calls out, “Maybe we should start taking notes. This might be us in a few years.”
Grid Kids and Grand-Grid Kids
Charles saunters over to Mark and Jenson, holding up a race boot he’d just had signed by both of them. “Thanks for this, mates. It will be a special addition to my collection.”
Mark pats Charles on the back, “Anything for our grand-grid kid.”
Charles stops mid-stride, turning to look at Mark with a puzzled expression. “Your what now?”
Jenson chuckles, handing Lando a signed cap. “Didn’t Seb and Y/N mention? Since they’re your grid parents and they’re our grid kids ... well, that makes you our grand-grid kids.”
Lando bursts into laughter, while George, overhearing the exchange, raises an eyebrow. “Wait, so we’re like ... the second generation of grid offspring? This is getting complicated.”
Mick leans in with a smirk, “Hold on. So if I’m following this logic properly, that would mean double the birthday gifts, right?”
Jenson grins, “Well, perhaps but it also means double the expectations on the track.”
Lance playfully rolls his eyes, “Great, double the pressure. Just what we needed.”
Max joins the banter, “Are there grand-grid kid initiation rites we should know about? Because I’ve seen old photos of Seb and Y/N with you guys and let’s just say that fashion has come a long way.”
Mark feigns shock, “You’re dissing our style from back in the day? Careful, young one.”
Charles, cocking an eyebrow, shoots back at Max, “Especially considering the only thing in your closet is Red Bull merch.”
The group bursts into laughter, Max chuckling and nodding in acknowledgment. “Touche, Leclerc. Touche.”
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#sebastian vettel x reader#max verstappen x reader#charles leclerc x reader#lance stroll x reader#george russell x reader#lando norris x reader#mick schumacher x reader#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#sebastian vettel imagine#max verstappen imagine#charles leclerc imagine#lance stroll imagine#george russell imagine#lando norris imagine#mick schumacher imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader
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hi I love youre azriel fics they're so sweet and sweet az I feel is never talked enough about just the very comforting side of him I think we don't see enough of could you maybe write a fic where his mate is absolutely terrified of sex and breaks down even from hearing someone say sex and is just genuinely so scared of sex (because she has a similar past to rhys) so gradually azriel I'd helping her feel more comfortable with physical touch and the idea of sex and slowly gets more intimate starting with just fingering her and making sure she's OK whilst stroking her hair with his other hand maybe she panics at bit at first but he comforts her during it and she let's him eat her out his shadows swirling round her stroking her hair and her body comfortingly whilst he's eating her and gives her alot of sweet aftercare
thank you so much for this💜 I think Azriel's soft, compassionate side is too overlooked and what I love about his character most is his thoughtfulness and understanding towards others
Where We Begin
Azriel x Reader smut
WARNINGS: references to past SA/abuse, smut below the cut
The setting sun cast an orange hue over the horizon, night quickly taking reign from the day. Azriel’s hand was gentle against your own, fingers lightly entwined with each others’ as you strolled slowly along the bank of the Sidra.
A deep sense of contentment glowed in your chest, settling within you much like the sun over the shining waters to your side. A silly smile graced your lips, sheer joy encompassing the moment as you looked into hazel eyes.
Your heart leapt in your chest at the feeling of his gaze on you, the soft openness Azriel bared to one else stripping you bare in the moment kind, intimate of ways. “I love you,” you whispered, the words more instinct than thought as you realized how deeply this male consumed you.
Shadows danced around you in response, a broad grin stretching across Az’s face as his hand found your cheek. “I love you, too,” he spoke, voice rough as he choked on emotions he’d never allowed himself to feel so deeply before this moment.
Eyes flicked to your lips, Azriel leaning in subconsciously as he awaited your permission. Always aware and careful of the boundaries you’d set, he had never made a move without your leading him. A small giggle escaped you as you pushed up on your toes, pulling him down for a passionate kiss.
Lips melded together, then teeth and tongues clashed as passion expressed itself in ways that words could not. Drawing back with faltered breath, the spark in your chest burst into a flame, engulfing the both of you in a warm light that binded you. Your mate.
“Azriel, I want you,” you whispered, eyes wide as your teeth worked your bottom lip. “All of you.”
Tears welled behind his eyes, glowing golden against the last rays of sunlight that cast over the purpled sky behind him. Azriel’s own breaths drew shallow, feet shifting in rare uncertainty. “Are you sure?” The words were hardly more than a breath, curling in the air between you.
“Sure of you? Always. I love you, Azriel, and there is no one I trust more with my life and my love more than you,” you promised, the sureness of your response enough to soothe his nerves.
“Then let’s go home, my love,” he smiled, wings flaring wider as he swept you into his arms and launched into the now-darkened sky. The night streets of Velaris shone below as cool wind whipped around you, Azriel’s body emanating warmth that you curled into before landing on the balcony of your home.
You flashed him a mischievous grin as your hand wound around the collar of his shirt, pulling him gently with you as you walked backwards into your bedroom. Warm faelight cast a cozy glow over the space, heat seeping back into your bones as Azriel kicked the door shut behind him.
Hand sliding down his toned chest, you tugged at the hem of Azriel’s shirt, a small chuckle breaking from his lips as he pulled away the fabric. Heat flushed in your core at the sight of him, golden brown skin illuminated by the moonlight behind you.
Eyes sparkled as he smirked at the scent of your arousal, scarred hands finding your waist. “Will you lay down for me?” Azriel whispered, his voice a soft caress that melted your nerves. Excitement coursed through you, nodding eagerly before you slid back onto the mattress, Azriel crawling over you as strong arms caged around your head.
“Is this alright?” he murmured, hand sliding under your dress, grazing your thigh as lips teased the skin of your neck.
You breathed a “yes,” nodding enthusiastically, hips lifting as you arched to be closer to your mate. A low groan of approval sounded in his chest, Azriel’s knee kicking your legs open as he pinned one of your knees to the mattress.
Breath hitched in your throat, a flush creeping over you as your body stiffened underneath him in a reflex. Shadows stilled, Azriel pulling back completely.
Hazel eyes studied you intensely, scanning for any sign of harm as his guilt filled the room. “Hey,” you whispered, reaching to stroke his sharp jawline, “it’s okay. I am okay.”
Despite your encouraging words, Azriel’s face crumpled as his hands left your body entirely. “No, I am so sorry. I should have been more careful, and I-“
Hand sliding down his cheek, your thumb found his lips to cut off Azriel’s spiraling thoughts. “I am not fragile, Az. I will tell you if I am uncomfortable,” you assured him, head raising to meet his lips in a gentle kiss.
Azriel sighed, relief evident as he relaxed above you. “What if you show me what you want?”
Brows dipped in a questioning look, your lips ticked up at the corners. “What do you mean, love?”
Azriel crawled off your body, reaching a hand to guide you forward on the bed. Shifting forward, you watched your mate climb behind you, legs wrapping around your hips as he pulled you to lay back against his bare chest.
Az’s hands appeared on each side of you, palms up as he held them out. “I want you to guide my hands to touch you,” he purred, teeth nipping at the shell of your ear. Heat rushed to your core, slick building between your thighs at the scent of his arousal.
Relaxing back into his body, you grasped Azriel’s wrists, pressing a kiss to each scarred palm before guiding them to the hem of your dress. “I want this off,” you whispered, shimming your hips to help as Az lifted the fabric from your body, leaving you in only your panties before him.
A low groan escaped him at the sight, hands tensing on either side of you as he anxiously awaited your next direction. A lazy smirk settled across your face, hands intertwining with his as you teased his fingertips up your thighs, hips instinctively rolling back into his.
A small gasp left your lips as you skirted around your core, guiding him to hold your breasts. “Please, Azriel,” you murmured, pushing his hands in encouragement. Lips found your neck, lightly licking, teeth grazing the skin there as he toyed with your breasts, flicking and twisting your nipples.
Head lolled back against his shoulder, one of your hands guiding his down your stomach towards your core. “Touch me, Azriel,” you purred, the sound turning into a breathy moan as his fingers slid beneath your underwear to your folds. Arousal shone on his fingers, a grunt leaving your mate’s lips before he pressed a finger to your clit.
You could feel his gaze on you, watching your reaction to his hands working magic on your body, playing you like a violin. “More,” the plea left your lips as a breath, Azriel needing no more direction as a finger dipped inside of you, curling against your walls as shadows danced across your stomach and legs.
Pushing in a second finger, Azriel groaned at the obscene noises from your pussy as a shadow grazed your clit, the stimulation sending you over the edge into orgasm. Arching off the bed, your hands clawed at Azriel beneath you as his name left you, a lewd moan echoing through the home.
You came down from your high, turning to see Azriel already smiling down at you, pure male satisfaction on his face as he pulled his fingers from your core, licking your release clean while he kept eye contact.
“More,” you whispered, hardly registering your own words, your body thrumming with need for your mate. Azriel’s eyes darkened, hands and shadows stilling as he gazed down at you.
“How do you want me?” he choked out, breaths coming heavy, cock twitching at your backside.
“I want all of you,” you replied, voice breathy as you ground your hips against his. “I want to ride you.”
A heavy sigh blew from Az’s mouth, his body tensing beneath you. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he muttered, hands moving to clutch the sheets beneath him. “Take me, then, please. All of me and more.”
Pushing up from the mattress, you instantly missed the warmth of your mate as you clawed at your underwear and Azriel’s, desperate to be bare with one another. You gasped at the sight of him, this glorious, strong male beneath you, practically begging for your touch.
“I am yours, and you are mine,” you whispered, hair falling in a curtain around you, breasts brushing his toned chest as you dipped to kiss your mate.
“Always,” Azriel promised, the bargain mark a pleasant burn on your chests you settled over his length. You knew that your eyes shone with emotion to match his own, the moment more tender than anything you had felt in your lifetime.
Sinking down onto his full length, lips parted in a silent moan at the stretch inside of you. “So tight,” he grunted, abs flexed beneath you while Azriel fought to keep from thrusting up into you.
You couldn’t resist the sly smile that brightened your features at his desire, rolling your hips in a teasing motion against him. Sounds of pleasure echoed from both of you at the feeling, your hands finding purchase on your mate’s chest as you slowly lifted up before sliding back down.
He hit perfectly deep inside of you, pure pleasure rolling through like a shockwave with each bounce. “My chest, Az,” you pleaded, clenching at this feeling when his hands found your breasts, gently massaging and rolling your nipples between his fingers.
Shadows flicked softly against your legs, hips, neck, slithering down to your core. “Fuck, I’m close,” you breathed, crumpling at the full feeling of Azriel coupled with tendrils of darkness against your clit. “Please, fuck me,” you breathed, grateful for the reprieve when Azriel’s hands moved to your hips.
He thrust into you at a steady but powerful pace, his massive length hitting deep inside of you with every thrust upwards. Your body collapsed against his, hand tapping on your mate’s shoulder to let him know you were close.
“Let it go, darling. I’m right behind you,” he murmured, a kiss to the sensitive skin beneath your ear sending you over the edge once more, convulsing at the overstimulation while Azriel grunted, his own release filling you with warmth.
You fell completely into his chest, settling down on Az’s large frame as scarred hands slid up your waist, holding you close while he pressed kisses around your face and neck. “How are you, love?” he whispered, voice like rough silk as he swept the hair from your temple.
“The best I’ve ever been, Azriel.” Joy flooded the bond, so full you couldn’t tell from whom the feeling came. “I love you, so much.”
“Saying ‘I love you, too’ doesn’t feel like enough to describe how I feel about you, but that’s all I can manage for now,” he answered softly, the black waves of his hair tickling your cheek.
He held you so close, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. And you settled into that feeling, sure that that was how you wanted the rest of your life to be.
#acotar#acotar x reader#acotar fanfiction#azriel#azriel acotar#acotar smut#a court of thorns and roses#acotar imagine#acotar fanfic#acotar reader fic#azriel shadowsinger#acotar fic#acotar azriel#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#azriel x y/n#azriel x reader smut#azriel x reader fluff#azriel acotar x reader#azriel angst#azriel smut#acotar azriel x reader#acotar reader imagine#acotar fluff#acotar x reader smut#acotar x you#acotar x y/n
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across the violet sky — lyney
"you look beautiful in the moonlight."
synopsis. all that fretting was over nothing, because he's looking at you now and the only thing he can think of saying is...
wc. ~1.5k
— for @rintosei smooch 🫶🫶 | event masterlist ✉️
"You did what?"
Lyney flinches at his twin's harsh tone, the words seething out through her grit teeth. He pauses in his rummaging, deflating with his hands hovering over the open box.
You had originally agreed on helping them set up for their next show, even going so far as to personally arrange for all the props to be transported to the Opera Epiclese. But you're nowhere to be found now, leaving the magician sweating under the cold gaze of his dear sister.
"Lyney—" She sighs, fingers pinching at the bridge of her nose. And he knows he's messed up big time to elicit such a powerful emotion from her. "How could you do that? Y/N has been nothing but amazing in helping us through all of this."
It was true that you had been supportive to a fault ever since you first stumbled into a performance way back when. Since then, you'd always looked at the pair with stars in your eyes, perhaps hoping that one day your beloved would pull you onto the stage despite his repeated worries about props misfiring or sabotage.
He had never worried about that sort of thing until he was framed. He'd be damned if you were to be injured during one of his shows.
So he banished you to the audience, swore to himself that he would never endanger you by pulling you into the spotlight of the stage. And he upheld that promise to himself, until you finally broke him down with such honeyed smiles and even sweeter words.
Because he was weak when it came to those he loved, he caved in just to see the joy shining in your eyes. He didn't have time to regret his decision—not when you were already leaping into his arms with a chanting prayer of thanks on your tongue.
And now...
"I know, I know..." he huffs in frustration, resuming in busying his hands with the contents of the box. "But what was I supposed to do? I owed Father's friends a huge favour and this—"
"Are you really choosing Father's approval over your relationship?"
He stops again, eyes cast solely on the props in his hands. One of the associates of the House demanded that his child be put into the show as an assistant. You were visibly hurt when he had informed you of the last minute change, and hadn't heard from you since.
While he would have normally chased after you in such a moment, he was too preoccupied with preparing everything for the changes made to the performance to worry about where you'd gone or the extent of how upset you were.
"What would you have me do?"
Lynette saunters over to her brother's side, crouching down beside him. Her hand gently guides his own down to place the props back into their spots.
"Making sure they're okay would be a good place to start."
The magician makes a face, lip jutted out in a half-pout as he considers it. Yes, he would be distracted if you were on his mind this way after all. It would be better to clear the air before the show started. His sister was always the more level-headed of the two of them—the soft yet stern voice of reason when he was being careless.
"You're right," he concedes. Lynette was always right.
He doesn't find you at your home.
After knocking at the front door until his knuckles hurt, he deems that you must not be here. Clutching the bouquet of Rainbow Roses carefully to his chest, he makes his way to his next destination: the Fountain of Lucine.
With nearly everyone tucking away for the night, there's hardly a peep in the plaza. He approaches slowly, watching your figure come into focus.
Ah, of course you'd be here. You always came here when you needed to think.
There were a thousand things he wanted to tell you. He'd practiced on the way here: how to apologize, how to grovel for forgiveness even though you were so kind that he was sure you'd accept it in a heartbeat.
Still, you were the love of his life. He seldom expressed his vulnerability to you, but he truly did feel horrible for bailing you out of the show last minute—especially when you seemed so excited to finally be a part of it.
"Sweetest," he calls you. You don't respond, instead opting to quietly swish your bare feet around in the shallows of the fountain. His heart plummets at your lack of interest, so he takes a cautious step forward. "It's late. You'll catch a cold sitting out here."
Again, you're silent. He swallows, trying to think of a way to get you to even look his way.
Lyney has always been good with words—talented at misdirection and deceit. But he has no reason to be like that with you, to be dishonest or closed off or misleading. It leaves him tripping over his own tongue.
He loves you with all his heart, yet he doesn't even know how to talk to you without making a fool of himself.
His whole life has been about buttering up an audience, making a spectacle of words and dance and magic. But you're real. How does he handle that?
Slowly, he sheds his coat before draping it over your shoulders. He sits beside you facing away from the running water, the paper holding his beautiful bouquet together rustling with each movement.
The noise makes you look his way, eyes curious as ever. It was what he adored so much about you.
For a second, he sees the undeniable softening of your expression—a small but unmistakable smile gracing your face before it vanishes again.
"You'll catch a cold," you scold.
"That's okay."
Your gaze flickers between his eyes and his lips. He can feel the heavy tension melting away with every shameless glance up and down, smugness firing through his veins when he realizes you've missed him despite your avoidance.
"I'm sorry I made such a big deal about all this," you whisper, tearing your attention back to the way the water ripples with each movement.
Lyney reaches over quickly, hand swiftly turning you to look at him again by the cheek. "Don't apologize," he argues. "I was being stupid."
You nod, mouth opening then closing as you wait for him to continue.
He doesn't. He can't.
The whole walk here he had planned out exactly what he wanted to say, all the ways he wanted to tell you that he only gets so protective because his work can be dangerous. There were a million ways he planned to apologize, a dozen scenarios where he imagined you would walk out of his life for being so careless with your feelings.
But all that fretting was over nothing, because he's looking at you now and the only thing he can think of saying is...
"You look so beautiful in the moonlight."
You blink at him in surprise, instinctively burying your face into the warmth of his palm as you lean forward. There's a knowing in the way you look at him, as if able to read the words in his heart that he can't seem to get out.
"You're not trying to butter me up, are you?" You ask teasingly, an attempt to relieve his racing mind.
"Just being honest," he laughs. Another silence fills the air before he continues, "I'm really sorry. Next time, I promise to drag you onto the stage with me."
You stifle a giggle, pulling away to watch your feet prod at the surface of the water. "It's alright. I know I'm not exactly cut out to be a star."
The magician shuffles closer to you until your shoulders are bumping, then he places the bouquet of Rainbow Roses in your lap.
"You are a star," he mumbles. "The brightest star in the sky."
Dancing in the moonlight, bathing in it so beautifully. Lynette would hurl at him admitting something so corny, though.
"Really?" You ask with a laugh in your breath.
"Really really."
You hum softly, hand settling over his. Your bodies are turned opposite ways but he can imagine the smile spreading across your face, the warmth of it. You were always poor at hiding when he flustered you.
The soft sound of streaming water fills the comfortable silence. It's a stark contrast to the applause he's grown so accustomed to but he would choose this a million times over.
Your hand squeezes his. He realizes, then—you're a star no matter which spotlight you're under, whether it be under the weight of a thousand eyes or just for him under the quiet moon.
("Stop gagging! It wasn't that cheesy!"
"A star?" Lynette pales further, placing her head into her hands. "A... A star?"
"Oh, quit with the dramatics already!"
"I have a lovesick idiot for a brother... I'm going to throw up."
"Lynette!")
© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
#— whispers in the wind: 1k event ✉️#genshin impact#genshin#genshin fic#genshin drabbles#genshin x gn reader#genshin x gender neutral reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#lyney#genshin lyney#lyney x reader#lyney x you#lyney x y/n#lyney x gender neutral reader#lyney x gn reader
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Hiiiiiiiiiii!! I love your work, and I get so excited whenever i see one of your posts pop up 💗💗
Idk if you'll be able to do anything with this, but this was just a random thought I had after a very real experience at the gym but
What about reader getting intimidated by a member bc of their muscles/height? Like maybe they're friends or in a relationship, and it's just like a cute sweet little moment (i can see this with anyone in svt tbh, but obv gym line would be best)
It's okay if you don't wanna do this! I just thought I'd throw it out there lol
Anyways, I hope you have a great day/night!!!!! 💖
you're so cute anonie !! thank you so much for reading my works, and i'm so glad to bring you joy with my silly posts ! but i totally get what you're saying, whenever i go to the gym without my friends, i'm so intimidated by the big guys so i get you ! plus i looove it whenever someone comes in my inbox to let out some random thoughts like that, keep doing that please !!
and to this screams MINGYU, who is so tall and big, but sometimes forgets how impressive it can be for other people. he sees you struggling to reach the bar of one of the machines because you're too short, and he runs to you to help you pull it down. you shyly thank him, and he goes back to his workout, but he cannot help stealing glances at you whenever you're at the gym at the same time as him. and sometimes, he catches you also looking at him but you always turn your eyes away and he doesn't understand why.
but mingyu doesn't want to annoy you during your workout, so he doesn't say anything. except that one day he sees you preparing to squat and he comes by quickly and asks you if you need someone to spot you. he's so cute with his cheeks all red that you cannot say no.
from this moment on, the two of you keep talking and you become his gym crush immediately. he already thought that you were insanely pretty, but now he's also aware that you're the sweetest human on earth and he's smitten by you. some weeks after you grew closer and started to workout together, he will start to wonder why you didn't approach him sooner.
"do i look like a bad guy ?" you giggled at his little joke, shaking your head. "not, that's not it. but you're… well, you're quite impressive." mingyu seemed so surprised you couldn't help but laugh again at how dumbfounded he was. "impressive ? me ?" - "don't play dumb gyu, you're so tall and big, it's a little intimidating at first."
mingyu tries to process the information for a moment, as he didn't think he could've impressed you just because of his size. but for some reasons, it fuels his ego and it feels good to know that he must also look dependable because he wants you to ask for his help everytime you need it.
"do you still find me impressive ?" he questioned, honestly curious about your answer, but he also had other thoughts in mind. "physically ? yes, don't think i didn't count how much you can bench press. but i also know that you're very sweet, and cute, and you take good care of me, so how could i be intimidated ?"
a soft smile takes over mingyu's face as he leans in, getting closer to you until your lips are only inches away. "does this intimidate you ?" - "no… not at all." this time, you take it upon yourself to make a move and kiss him softly. you can feel his lips stretching in a big, gummy smile against yours. and you can't help the giggle you let out when he looks you in the eyes, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes letting you know everything you needed to.
#gym crush mingyu has my heart now !#eli answering your questions#eli's anonie#seventeen soft thoughts#seventeen soft hours#mingyu soft hours#mingyu soft thoughts#mingyu fluff#mingyu x reader
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can you do hug headcanons with the rise guys !!
AN: I sure can! These guys deserve all the hugs <3
Hug Headcanons
Rise Turtles x Reader
Raphael
It's no surprise that Raph adores hugs but there's always the worry that he'll somehow injure you in the process. He's a big guy, both in height and width but there are prevalent dangers even if his size wasn't a problem. Excluding his shell, he still has the odd spike poking out of somewhere, whether that be his elbows or the top of his plastron. It's no issue for his brothers seeing as they're turtles too but you're a human. There's too much chance of you catching yourself on one of them and he could never forgive himself if he ever hurt you, even if it was by accident.
You always assure him that no such thing could ever happen and, bit by bit, he allows himself to be bolder with the physical affection. He's glad for it too because holding you is like a dream come to life. If he had to pick a favourite hug, it's when you're curled up on his chest while he lies on his back. Having you this close with his large arms around you is such a pleasure. He takes great joy in knowing he can keep you safe this way. It's also a popular hold when you're both relaxing in the pool, floating around without a care in the world.
Leonardo
He likes to surprise you but not necessarily in the cute couple-y way. Leo makes a point of trying to scare you with his hugs, whether that be leaping out of a random room or embracing you from behind without any warning. He's really putting those sneaky ninja skills to good use, isn't he? You thought that him being an appointed hero of your city meant that he used his powers for good but it would seem you were wrong.
When he isn't trying to give you a heart attack, he's pulling you in with the addition of his phone. He just loves to throw his arms over your shoulders and snap an unexpected selfie. The sentiment appears sweet but you wonder if this is part of his scare tactic, if he's trying to capture a picture of your frightened face in the moment.
However, he does know when to give downtime a chance and frequently enjoys being the small spoon. Anything to feel like the centre of your world. It's also because of the kisses you plant on his shell or the back of his head. He adores those.
Donatello
Trying to get a good hug in with Donnie can be a difficult one. You can only assume that it has something to do with his soft shell. Deep down, you're aware of his vulnerabilities and how they've manifested into this desire to not be touched. Most of his contact will be administered through the use of his tech, whether that be with his bionic arms or the handful of times he's lovingly pat you on the head with his bo staff.
That being said, he does have his moments. Some days are a lot better than others but if you want a hug from him, he needs to be the one to initiate it. The times he does, he'll slowly envelop you from behind and hide his face in the crook of your neck. You suppose this position is part of his need to be in control of the physical affection. He can let go when he wants to and not worry about pushing your arms away if they're around him. You know how hard he tries and it makes those moments that much sweeter.
Michelangelo
Fasten your seatbelts because the hug-a-tron is in the house. He can and will find any excuse to trap you in his arms, sometimes to the point that you're starved of oxygen. Even if the last you saw him was only an hour ago, he'll lift you from the ground in a squeeze upon your return as if you haven't seen each other in months. Saying that you've had to check your ribs for bruising isn't an over-exaggeration. Further stating that you have found bruises is no word of a lie, either.
Mikey isn't sure if he has a number-one hug on his list. They're all amazing in his opinion and he'd feel bad for choosing in case you had a personal preference. In his eyes, it's more about the delivery rather than the sort of affection itself; the energy behind it. That's why it's his absolute favourite when you tackle him to the ground and smother him in that sweet cuddly goodness. He loves to know that you get as excited to see him as he does you.
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt 2018#rottmnt#rise tmnt#rise of the tmnt#rise of the turtles#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt x reader#tmnt x reader#x reader#raphael#leonardo#donatello#michelangelo#tmnt headcanons#raph#leo#donnie#mikey#rise raph#rise leo#rise donnie#rise mikey
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That's my man atsumu x fem!reader
notes: I needed to write smthing for my baby's birthday. fwb tsumu does smthing to a me (it'll end up with getting together bc im silly like that), the samu ver is here
Content: slight language, slightly suggestive, fluff
He smiled at her with those sex eyes of his. Yes, he's giving them to her and not you. Atsumu makes everything so hot and cold, it's hard to tell with him.
She giggles and he laughs too, entertaining her for some pussy. The 'why' is something you will never understand, not when you've had that man down on his knees, eating you out like he was on death row and you were his last meal.
Your hope is that both of their stupid asses feel your heated glare towards them. They don't notice it though, mainly because you're best friend pulls you out of your thoughts.
"The sooner you get over him the sooner my life becomes easier." Your best friend jokes. Their attempts at lightening your mood are ineffective. How could you be in a better mood when the man of your dreams only wants sex from you? You want him, badly, but he doesn't want you.
This was something you were aware of before sleeping with him. Yet, you took it lightly, and now here you are, pouting over him being with another girl.
"I know, it's just-"
They cut you off, "'it's different between us, he treats me better than his other fucks.' I've already heard the whole shebang." Your friend rolls their eyes with a quick smirk.
"He's a college frat boy, there's no way he was serious if he said something in bed. It was probably to set the mood." You know they're right, you're just being delusional. You want your relationship to be something it's not.
The rest of your day was pretty foul. Just as you thought it couldn't get worse it did. You had to present your presentation, because your partner who was supposed to do it has covid, and your other partner is so bad with public speaking that she freezes up.
Your favorite coffee is the only thing that brings you some joy to your day. You're seated in your favorite booth at your favorite cafe. You take small sips and check your social media feed. It's then when you hear your name being called out.
You don't bother to turn to look because you know who it is. He sits at your booth, unaware of the anger you feel currently.
"Don't you have someone's pussy to be buried into?" You ask with venom.
Atsumu gives you that cute little chuckle, you hate it so much right now. It feels like a tear to your pride.
"Only if it's yers." He suggests with a smirk.
"I'm really not in the mood right now Atsumu, why don't you go entertain that girl from bio." Shit, know he'll know and tease you. He'll probably cut things off with you and-
"Oh her? I was just tryin' to get her to do my presentation, but she turned me down." He says casually. This is probably the only time you'll be thankful for Atsumu's obliviousness.
"I could have helped you with it." He knows you're smart, and he would have asked you...
"There was no way I woulda asked ya. You always make me do the work, and only give me commentary on my work." He says sighing. You watch as he places those big rough hands of his under his chin.
He's so pretty, volleyball has not failed him once. Even though some of your friends hate his hair; you think it's cute.
Those eyes, so pretty and brown draw you in to him. Also his muscles are just right, he's not too buff but he's also not thin to the point you can't see anything.
"Yeah, it's called improving. I really hope you didn't think you'd get through college with a pretty face and money. College isn't just one big party. At least not for me." You lecture and Atsumu listens, he always listens.
"For starters I do my work now, I ain't slept with a teacher since freshman year which was almost two years ago. Thank you very much." He replies to the shade you send his way.
"Anyway, what is it that you wanted?" You ask with a sigh.
"I wanted to check up on ya s'all. My cupcake seemed a lil' outta it today." Fuck his perceptiveness.
"Just tired is all." Atsumu's eyes narrow at your response. Why'd you think you could lie to one of the biggest liars you know?
"The way ya were acting today wasn't as much 'oh gee im tired' but more like 'my sweetie pie tsumu-bear hasn't been paying me any attention.'"
"If you knew, then why where you trying to force it out of me?" You roll your eyes and look back to your phone as to avoid his gaze and your embarrassment.
"I just wanted to hear ya say it because yer so cute." Atsumu is going to be the death of you. He annoys you to no end.
"Just so ya know, I ain't been sleepin' with anyone besides you, sweetheart."
"How do I know you aren't a big fat liar?" The way he smiles when you hiss at him has your heart melting. Why? Why you?
"I'd be an idiot to sleep with someone else when I got the most beautiful girl in my bed all the time." It's so sweet and sincere, his voice is honest you can tell. It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest, and that Atsumu shaped hole in your heart is slowly being filled.
"Yeah? What're you trying to say, Tsumu?" You peek up from your phone screen to look at his dark eyes. It catches you off guard slightly, the way he looks at you, like you put the stars in the damn sky.
"I knew ya were kinda clueless but this is something else. I want ya to be my girl."He clarifies and you stop breathing for a second. When you'd fantasize about this you'd never thought his confession would be calm. Atsumu is loud and obnoxious, so this quiet, calmness has caught you off guard.
"Is that a question or a demand?" You ask.
"Not a question, m'already confident in ya wanting me." He's prideful and sometimes it sucks but right now.. it's so hot.
"Okay then, I'm yours." You whisper quietly trying to grasp what you've just said.
"Good, best decision you'll ever make, cupcake." Cockiness is laced in his tone and you roll your eyes.
"I said to stop calling me that," You finally drop your gaze back to your phone, but you aren't even paying attention to the dimly-lit screen. Your brain is exploding right now.
"You're my man now." It finally registers.
"Sure am."
#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#atsumu miya#atsumu x you#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu#atsumu x reader#miya atsumu#hq atsumu#miya atsumu fluff#atsumu fluff#hq fluff#haikyuu fluff
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Wednesday
Quinn Hughes x fem!reader
watching a movie or show that they know they're interested in, not because they asked them to, but to be able to engage in more conversation related to it when they adorably ramble on and on.
I chose Wednesday as the show because I love it, but feel free to substitute it for whatever you like ☺️
Quinn Hughes had always stuck to what he knew—documentaries, sports shows, and maybe the occasional crime series. So when Wednesday hit the screens and you gushed over it, he gave you an apologetic smile, rubbing the back of his neck as he admitted, “I don’t think it’s my thing, babe.”
And it wasn’t. The Addams Family spin-off? Definitely not in his wheelhouse. But you were passionate about it, and Quinn loved nothing more than listening to you talk about the things that made you excited. The way your eyes lit up, how your hands moved animatedly when you explained the difference between this version of Wednesday and the older films, how you absolutely adored the dynamic between Wednesday and Enid.
He didn’t mind. In fact, he loved it. He’d sit beside you, nodding along, even though half of it flew over his head. You always apologized for rambling, but Quinn reassured you, “I like hearing you talk about it, even if I don’t know what’s going on.”
But something shifted after one particular night during an away stretch of games. He found himself alone in his hotel room, the silence almost oppressive. Without you beside him, the quiet felt too heavy, and his mind wandered to the way you had looked when you last talked about Wednesday —so full of life, eyes sparkling as you delved into all the reasons why you adored the show.
And that’s how Quinn Hughes, the guy who swore he’d never watch it, found himself pulling up Wednesday on Netflix. He knew it wasn’t his style, but it was yours, and that was reason enough.
The first episode had him raising his eyebrows, unsure of what to make of the deadpan humor and gothic atmosphere. But then he remembered your smile, the way you raved about Wednesday’s wit and Enid’s energy, and he kept watching. Soon, one episode turned into two, then three. By the time he finished the season, he found himself understanding exactly what you’d been going on about all this time.
When Quinn got back from his trip, you barely had time to ask how the games had gone before he casually brought it up. “So...I watched Wednesday.”
Your head whipped around so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “Wait, what? You watched Wednesday?”
He gave you a half-smirk, a little shy as he admitted, “Yeah. I figured, you talk about it so much… I wanted to know what you were talking about.”
Your jaw dropped. “I thought you didn’t like it?”
“I didn’t think I would,” he shrugged, “but I wanted to see it through your eyes, I guess. And… I get it now. Enid is kind of awesome, huh?”
You couldn’t stop the huge grin from spreading across your face. “You watched it for me?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice soft, “because I love the way you light up when you talk about the things you love. And I wanted to be part of that.”
Your heart swelled as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. “You didn’t have to, but thank you.”
He kissed the top of your head, his voice tender. “You’re worth it.”
And just like that, Quinn Hughes—the documentary and sports guy—found himself deep in conversation with you about a show he never thought he’d care about, but now loved because of the joy it brought to your face.
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TWST Boys as ✨ PARENTS✨(Part 2)
ft: Octavinelle, Scarabia | pt.1; ft.Heartsabyul & Savanaclaw | pt.3; ft.Pomefiore, Ignhihyde | pt. 4; ft.Diasomnia
TW: kids, pregnancy, reader is depicted as female, domestic, fluff
Azul Ashengrotto-
4 very well behaved children. For the majority of the time they are really good kids, listening, getting good grades,and respectful. Until you make one of them angry, bc they will hold that grudge and with find a way to pull a fast on you; yet will they admit they're mad if you simply ask? No. They DO know how to forgive and they do to the people they love. Honestly Azul would be a very gentle parent because he has a soft heart and doesn't think his kids could do anything wrong, definitely the parent who will find some excuse for his kid.Don't get me wrong he knows where to draw the line like if their kicking someone's chair on an airplane. 2 boys and 2 girls, and he would never have it any other way(even if originally he was sort of scared of messing them up).
Jade Leech-
2 kids, two adorable little girls. His daughters were super calm children. When you two first brought your first home you were gald yet worried because she rarely cried throughout the night. All you could think is 'This is so jade's daughter'. Both of your kids are absolutely brilliant and catch on fast. Your 2nd daughter was very into photography and would snap pictures of family and her dad's mushroom garden.One father's day she gave her dad a photo album filled with pictures of him with his family (and his mushrooms & terrariums); he almost cried tears of joy. Jade loves to spoil his little girls, he tries to say no to them but they give him those sad, sad eyes and he just gives in. Very protective of your and your girls, you guys are the most important people in his life.
Floyd Leech-
6-10 kids, two words ; baby machine. He loves seeing you pregnant so he does it over and over again. The most chaotic dad to ever have, wanna egg the neighbors house? He'll help. Wanna troll local Walmart employees? You guys will get kicked out together. Wanna rustle with a good ol' dad in the mud? Let's do it!! To others he may seem like a horrible parent but his kids know he always means best and they love him. He hates parent-teacher conference, bc now he has to listen to some strange rant about his kid for 25 minutes; but the upside is if his kids do really well they get to treat them for whatever they want. He'll also get to be super proud!! He has at least 2-3 sets of twins only one of them is boy-girl, other(s) is boy-boy.
Kalim Al Asim-
9- whenever you tell him you don't want anymore kids!! This man wants a huge family like he had growing up. Most of his kids seem to be super happy go lucky like their dad. He has more self-control by the time he has kids so thankfully he isn't throwing parties everyday, but if his kids want to have one ; go all out!! (Just don't do anything illegal). All his kids are given unlimited cards by the age of 13, he wanted to do 7 but you said it was too young so he agreed on 13. His kids are the life of every party, you either really love 'em or really hate 'em. These kids are 100% either home-schooled or in a prestigious private school and have bodyguards for the obvious reasons being they are Asim kids they have constant threat someone will assassinate/kidnap them. But Kalim is a great dad and his kids love him!! I'm not gonna list all his kids but his first is a little girl <3
Jamil Viper-
2 kids, very strict. He is the first Viper in years to break the long line of servitude to the Asim family. It's hard to break out of certain habits but, although it made his kids super sneaky, it also made them work really hard to not have dad be disappointed. His kids are super smart and always on top of their class. Like their dad they are very talented, his daughter takes up painting and martial arts, and his son takes up spelldrive and culinary. Jamil may be strict but he is also a very proud parent, as his kids seem to always do amazing things. He does tell them when he's proud and tells them how great they're doing and how much he loves them. Lucky for them they also inherited his gorgeous hair.
Octavinelle Masterlist
Scarabia Masterlist
TWST Masterlist
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twst x reader#fluff#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul x reader#jade leech#jade leech x reader#floyd leech#floyd leech x reader#kalim al asim#kalim al asim x reader#jamil viper#jamil viper x reader#domestic#babies#tw babies
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I’m back to talk about transfemme Wade (who I think would refuse to go by Wanda bc “we already have one of them, don’t wanna confuse the fans!”) but in an embarrassing amount of thought so anon-
I feel like she has so many wigs that sit along the wall of their room, one for every occasion (Logan talked her out of getting a massive Miku length one bc she would never take care of it Well enough-), her favorite is the Barbie of just a cute blonde ponytail that sometimes she’d clip colorful strips into. Sometimes she showers wearing a wig for the Euphoria of her bf being pissed there’s a bunch of plastic in the drain- she goes through so many phases of what style she likes, their living room was full of amazon boxes at some point and Logan was ‘forced’ to sit through a fashion show and give his opinions, and while he doesn’t know the difference between Lolita (THE STYLE THE STYLE!!!!) and Harijuku, all he knows is his girl is beaming and rambling a mile a minute and he can’t make himself veto any outfit she shows off. Unfortunately his real favorite look of hers involves the same t shirts and boxers she wore before coming out, no makeup, no wig, face mushed into his chest and just Content as can be. He doesn’t care about her putting on a big effort to look femme (though will always lovingly praise looks so the RSD doesn’t trigger), as long as she’s happy and safe, he’s so lucky to have her 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 anyways I go ESPLODE NOW thinking of my self ship with her-
WAILS AND RUBS MY FACE ALL OVER THIS LIKE A HAPPY CAT
AWHHHHHHH
she is everything to me. EVERYTHINGGGGG
[UNDER A CUT for discussions of bottom dysphoria - as well as related self-inflicted violence, but in a Poolverine way where violence is consensual and sexy and fun for everyone involved!]
I need her to be happy and to find joy and to have a million wigs and for Logan to love her just as much with them as without them, while bitching something rotten while he pulls the gross wads of plastic faux-hair out the drain
I need her to drape herself over Logan's lap like a happy housecat only Logan's the one who starts (embarrassedly) purring as he strokes her because he's so delighted and comfortable in his life right now~ And Wade is just being VIBRATED by the very loud proof of her boyfriend's love of her.... And she is smiling the GOOFIEST grin while Logan turns bright red!
I need her to turn to Logan after a long day of murder and they start pulling voraciously at each other's clothes - only Logan freezes STARSTRUCK because. Damn. And Wade's kinda confused and a bit self conscious, but tries to hide it under jokes until Logan says in this gruff, choked voice - "You look so fucking good in red" and she looks down to see where she's pulling off her costume and she's just fucking covered in this glossy red satin dress of her own blood ❤️
(And Logan maybe buys her a long red evening dress that she's probably never gonna have occasion to wear, but he's flushing so much when he presents it that he almost matches the colour, and he wants to see her in it so bad, and whenever Wade wears it around the house just casually, she gets picked up and fucked against the nearest wall lmao)
I need Logan dipping her effortlessly in a kiss, and she feels so fucking weightless in his arms ❤️
I need them baking together before Laura comes around and they both keep burning shit but they're laughing and having a good time and there's a smudge of flour on Wade's nose and Logan is imploding internally over how cute she is
I also need her to casually say to Logan one day when the Bottom Dysphoria is particularly bad, 'hey can you chop off my dick while fucking me and then just keep chopping it off whenever it tries to grow back??' and Logan is like 'what the fuck babe' and 'I have a vague sense that I shouldn't enable this' and 'babe are you fucking sure' and Wade is like 'yeah I get off on pain and that would make me very very happy, plus it will do no lasting damage <3' and Logan is like 'OOKAY I GUESS' and then they have fun horrific bloody mutilation sex that would look absolutely awful to anyone else but is actually very tender and affirming and cute
#poolverine#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool#wade wilson#deadpool x wolverine#logan howlett#wolverine#deadclaws#peanutbub#violence#tw blood#tw gore
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in need of more dad!carmy cause oml
him walkin in on the girls doing something they're not supposed to be doin :0 but ofc he can't manage to stay upset at them for long
He’s got the biggest soft spot in the world for his girls and he really can’t help it, especially when they’re young. They’re always up to something, usually because Rory’s a little shit (she takes after you) and Jack’s just trying to copy after her big sister.
You’re fast asleep one night when he’s wide awake. Just nerves, kinks in the road with The Bear, thoughts of Mikey’s birthday approaching, anxiety bubbling up that he doesn’t want to worry you with. So he heads downstairs to sit outside and clear his head with some fresh air—
Only to find Rory and Jack in the living room, on the floor, your sneaky bag of candy—the one reserved for you, that you pick at once the girls are off to bed and you’re cozied up on the couch with Carmen, chatting about your days between sweets—dispersed on the floor.
They don’t even notice his presence till he speaks up:
“What’s goin’ on here?”
They both look up, entirely spooked at their dad standing feet away.
“You two should be in bed.”
“But Dad,” Rory whines, “We don’t even have school tomorrow.” She puts on that pout she knows will have him cooing at her, and Jack follows right behind. “We were just looking, I promise.”
“Just lookin’, huh?”
“Mhm.”
“You know that’s your mother’s, right? That’s her candy you’re stealin’?”
Jack frowns, puts her big brown doe eyes to work. “Mommy lets us have some all the time.”
“Don’t lie t’me, Jacqueline.” One hand of his rests at his hip, the other swiping at his mouth as he fidgets. “You lyin’ t’me?”
He looks back and forth between his girls—his babies, really, because even though they’ve grown out of diapers and go to school on the weekdays, he still can’t fathom them as anything but his baby girls. So small, and so adorable, with tiny pouts and tiny hands and tiny giggles. They’re just so sweet.
“Not lyin’, Daddy.”
“She’s not,” Rory agrees. “Promise.”
He must be going soft. If Richie knew, he’d never hear the end of it, what with his heart going to mush at his girls, how he sees you in them both, how just a simple and meek little promise has his irritation going smooth and his lungs letting out a sigh before he cleans them up and carries them to bed—after they get one more piece of candy, of course, because who is he to deny them a little joy?
Carmen tells you the short of it by morning, limbs tangled together.
“You’re too easy on ‘em,” you giggle, “Such a softie. And they know it.”
“I’m not, y’know, soft, I’m just—”
“Bear, you let them get away with everything—”
“No I don’t—”
“If you say so,” you tease, letting the matter settle with your lips pressed sweetly against his, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you just a little closer. “It’s gonna come back ‘n bite you, though.”
“I’ll be alright, baby.” Another gentle trail of kisses, along your jaw, down to your neck, fading away at your collarbone. He’d kiss you all day if you’d let him.
“Hm.” Your nails scratch gently along his back, and you press your fingertips into the tender muscles of his back as he buries himself into your neck. “Are you making waffles today?”
A muffled groan escapes him, and he peeks up at you. “Thought you said you were doin’ breakfast today?”
You pout, and it looks awfully familiar to him. “Next weekend?”
“Next weekend, huh?”
“Promise.”
And oh, how the irony dawns on him, and oh, how little he cares. But why would he? How could he say no to you, or the girls you’ve brought into his life, when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him—when you love him like you do?
With a brief stretch and a deepened kiss with your hands in his hair, he lifts himself out of bed as you trail close behind, your touch a comfort unlike anything else. And when you shimmy into your seat at the counter, laughing with him over your cup of coffee, watching sweetly as he prepares breakfast before the girls scurry into the kitchen, he knows:
He wouldn’t change a thing.
#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#carmy the bear#jeremy allen white#dad!carm#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#carmy x reader#the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto imagine
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If reqs are still open, could you do w2s harry x golden retriever!Reader? Like she’s just always happy and overjoyed? I’m curious to see their dynamic
WROETOSHAW X GOLDEN RETRIEVER!READER HEADCANONS
a/n: i am in love with whoever sent this anon. i love people w golden retriever energy they're my favs so this is my fav y/n concept ever ever. also quickly learnt i have no idea how to spell retriever it's so hard for no reason. love u all!! more writing coming soon x
firstly, this man is cuddly. i don't care who you ask, he's a real life teddy bear and i'm not accepting any arguments
so when it comes to you, and your very apparent love language of touch, this sweet man cannot stop his arms from opening to you.
2am, 6am, 11pm, no matter when, and no matter the reason, he can't deny how persuasive your giddy grin can be, and the puppy dog eyes, of course
you're his biggest supporter by a mile
he makes some toast?? round of applause for this man
you're so proud of him no matter what
and you make it so obvious, which he appreciates beyond words
you both come as a package
wherever he goes, you go – happily, with a smile on your face
to summarise the dynamic, it's a lot of heart eyes
the first time you both went public with the relationship, on a Sidemen Sunday of all places, the comments consisted of basically a lot of;
'oh my god the way they look at him is so cute'
'i can't get over the way they look at him'
'Y/N IS ADORABLE I CAN'T'
harry is a big gift giver
sometimes it's hard for him to convey his emotions with words, he can struggle with affection from time to time
but when things get hard and he can't tell you how much he loves you, you'll come home to a beautiful necklace, or tickets to a concert from favourite artist, or a romantic getaway somewhere expensive
you hop excitedly into his room to thank him
he's sitting at his desk, nervous, hoping his gift is telling you what he can't
him seeing your bright, loving smile and the buzz in your eyes makes his whole body relax and he finally finds the words
“i love you so much, y/n”
you jump to him, face buried in his neck, and he can't deny that the feeling of your embrace makes his heart sore out of his chest
one morning, after a long day the day before
you’re laying in his bed, barely conscious, your eyes still misty from sleep
immediately, you feel harry’s arms pull gently at your waist, bringing you towards him
his lips are on your cheek, hands touching your skin softly
he can feel your smile without even opening his eyes
“you know you reach for me in your sleep” he whispers, his voice is still haunted by sleep
“because i love you, and you’re always warm”
“you’re like a golden retriever, you know”
he feels you smile wider
the only downside of this dynamic, is when arguments arise
conflict is always natural in a relationship, and you do understand that
but you wear your heart on your sleeve, and your admiration for your boyfriend is so strong that when it gets rough, and maybe communication gets skewed, you find it incredibly hard
if he needs space, you find it difficult to keep your mind from him
you give him whatever he needs to get his head straight, and he does the same, but it rattles you a little, not being with him when you need to the most
but when he calls you one night, with his tone warm as honey, asking how you are, that he's missed you and he's ready to talk things through, your heart fills with happiness and relief
overall, it's the sweetest dynamic, and harry adores it
you're a bundle of joy with a heart of gold, and the love you have for this man, you're never secretive about it
he wouldn't ever change it for the world <3
#wroetoshaw#ksi#behzinga#miniminter#sidemen#wroetoshaw fanfiction#wroetoshaw imagine#fanfiction#sidemen fanfic#sidemen fanfiction#headcanon#wroetoshaw x reader#wroetoshaw smut#wroetoshaw fanfic#wroetoshaw imagines#harry lewis imagines#harry lewis fanfic#harry lewis fanfiction#harry lewis x reader#harry lewis imagine#harry lewis smut#harry lewis#sidemen x reader#sidemen imagine#sidemen imagines#harry lewis headcanon#wroetoshaw headcanon#sidemen headcanon#headcannons#wroetoshaw headcannon
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